


The Price of Silence

by ali_julia87



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Eventual Romance, F/M, M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, References to Depression
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-31
Updated: 2020-03-14
Packaged: 2020-10-04 02:56:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 30
Words: 99,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20463875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ali_julia87/pseuds/ali_julia87
Summary: This story begins at the start of Harry's fifth year. It's always upset me how quickly he forgives everyone for abandoning him and ignoring him in his time of need. I know it's a staple of his character, but it still makes me mad, so I fixed it. This story will redo Harry's fifth year. It will eventually become Drarry.





	1. The Worst Summer Yet

**Author's Note:**

> This chapter is pretty close to the original first chapter. Things will start to deviate more with chapter 2.

Harry thought this was possibly the worst summer he had ever experienced as he sat on his aunt and uncle’s back steps in the sweltering summer heat. This was saying quite a bit as pretty much all of his summers were terrible. He was even starting to think this was worse than the summer he spent playing an involuntary game of hide and seek from Dudley and his friends. Every time he was found resulted in a beating. At least that summer, he knew what the threat was. This summer, he had been left completely in the dark.

Harry thought this was particularly unfair considering that if it weren’t for him, no one would even know there was a threat at all. He was the one who told them of Voldemort’s return after all. He knew things would change, but what he didn’t expect was the complete and utter silence. Since summer began, he had been anxiously waiting for the other shoe to drop. So far the Daily Prophet hadn’t mentioned a word of Voldemort’s return. Instead, all it did was mock him and Dumbledore.

He had spent the entire summer with only the harsh words of the Prophet for company. One would thing they would get tired of printing the same thing over and over again, but every day was some new variation of the crazed boy who lived. The more he read, the more he began to think maybe he was all the things they said.

But the worst of it all was the lack of communication from his friends. The handful of letters he had received were short, vague, and all as disappointing as the first. Neither Ron nor Hermione seemed inclined to share any news with him. And yet, based on the way they worded their letters, he knew they had some.

_“We’ve been told not to tell you anything…It’s been rather busy here, but we’ll have to fill you in later.”_

And so it was obvious that they knew things they wouldn’t tell Harry. To make matters worse, it sounded as though they were together. None of it made any sense to Harry. Why would they be together and leave him all alone in the muggle world? Wasn’t he the one Voldemort wanted? Didn’t that make him the one in the most danger? And yet, nothing. No visits. No calls. No useful letters. Not even from Sirius, who he had expected to be on his side.

_“Don’t do anything rash,” _his letters had said.

That was rich coming from Sirius. Harry had believed that his godfather of all people would understand the overwhelming grief and anguish he was going through. It had only been a few months since he had watched Cedric die and barely escape with his ow life. He still had nightmares of the cemetery nearly every night. And still, everyone he loved had abandoned him right when he needed it the most. He couldn’t understand why they wouldn’t be here for him, knowing what he had been through, what he was going through.

_Unless_, the voice in the back of his head piped up. _Unless they don’t really care about you._

Harry wanted those thoughts to stop. He kept reminding himself that he knew his friends better than that. That they really were his friends. That they cared. But it was so hard to convince himself when everything pointed to the other direction.

Just as Harry was scanning the sky for the hundredth time hoping despite knowing better for an owl bringing him news, a loud, echoing _crack_ startled him from his perch on the porch steps. He yanked his wand out of his pocket as he leapt to his feet and started scanning the area. He had every intention to search the area for the witch or wizard he was certain he had just heard apparate, but before he could step down his upper arm was caught in a tight grip. He turned only to find his face inches from Uncle Vernon’s.

“Pick it up!” He snarled at Harry. “Before anyone sees!”

When Harry turned he saw no sign of a witch or wizard, but he saw several of their neighbors’ faces peering out of their windows. He hastily stuffed his wand into his pocket and yanked his arm from his uncle’s grip as his uncle offered platitudes to satisfy the neighbors’ curiosity.

“What the devil are you doing?” asked Uncle Vernon when they had all gone.

“I’m not doing anything,” said Harry coldly.

“What about that racket right outside—“

“I didn’t make that noise,” said Harry firmly. Uncle Vernon started to respond, but Harry no longer cared to listen. He turned and took off down the street barely listening to his uncle’s shouting. He knew he would have to pay for his actions when he returned, but he couldn’t bring himself to care at the moment. He was certain he had just heard the sound of a wizard dissapparating. It was the same sound Dobby had made.

It didn’t make any sense thought Harry. Why would a wizard be feet from him and not come to speak with him? Was he being watched? As he walked street after street, his thoughts began spiraling down the same path they had been all summer. Harry was starting to question whether they even cared about him at all.

_ Useless. Crazy. Dangerous. Unloved. _

“They wouldn’t even have known about Voldemort if it wasn’t for me!” Harry said to himself angrily. “I was the one who was targeted. I was the one who fought him. I was the one who watched Cedric d…”

Harry choked on the words. It seemed like instead of getting easier with time everything got worse. He didn’t know whether to be sad, hurt, or angry. Most days it felt like he was all three at once. He felt overwhelmed by it all and just needed someone to talk to. He had tried reaching out to Ron, Hermione, Sirius, and even Dumbledore. From the latter he heard nothing. The rest all gave him the same platitudes.

_ “Don’t hesitate to write…you’ll be able to come soon…it’s not quite time yet.”_

He was sick of it. Infuriated with their excuses. Just as his mind was starting to spiral, Harry was startled out of his thoughts by voices at the end of the street. He looked up to see Dudley and his friends. He waited until Dudley’s friends walked in the other direction before catching up with his cousin. He wasn’t in the mood for that kind of confrontation today. All the emotions that had welled up inside left him too exhausted to fight with the others. That didn’t mean he couldn’t bother Dudley though.

“Sup Big D,” Harry said.

Dudley turned and scowled when he realized it was Harry. “Shut it.”

“Cool nickname,” Harry said with a grin. “But you’ll always be Ickly Diddykins to me.”

“SHUT IT!” yelled Dudley as his hands curled into fists.

“Oh come on ‘popkin’ don’t you like that name?”

Dudley didn’t respond. It seemed stopping himself from hitting Harry was taking all his effort. For a fleeting moment, it made Harry feel better knowing he was getting under Dudley’s skin. But the moment soon ended, Harry knew stooping to Dudley’s level wouldn’t help him in the long run. He decided to let it go, but it was too late. Dudley had been threatened and he wasn’t backing down.

“You think you’re so smart huh?” Dudley said. “You’re a big man at your freak school, huh? Your friends know how scared you get a night?”

“What are you on about Duddykins?” asked Harry. “In case you haven’t noticed,” Harry gestured around them, “it is night.”

“Oh yeah, then you should be gearing up. All that crying and moaning should be starting any minute now.”

“What crying?”

Dudley started mimicking a high-pitched cry. “Don’t kill Cedric! Please not Cedric! Help me Mum! You miss your Mum Potter?”

“Shut up,” Harry said quietly.

“Mum he’s killed Cedr…” Dudley stopped abruptly as he backed into a wall with Harry’s wand at his throat.

“Never. Mention. That. Again,” Harry snarled.

“Get that thing away—“ Dudley was cut off a second time. This time is wasn’t Harry, but a piercing cold that went straight to your soul. Harry glanced around and noticed the night was black and there wasn’t another soul or sound nearby.

For a moment, Harry thought he had done it by accident, but he quickly realized the only thing that could make the stars go out and the summer heat turn to winter. In front of him, Dudley was whining at him to stop what he was doing.

“It’s not me,” said Harry, while trying not to panic. It can’t be he thought. They can’t possibly be in Little Whinging. “Come on we have to hurry.” But before they could take a step, Harry heard what he had been dreading: a long, hoarse, rattling breath. Harry’s burgeoning panic quickly turned to dread.

“Cut it out! I’ll hit you!”

“Dudley, be quiet…” WHAM!

Before Harry knew it he was on the ground with white lights dancing across his eyes. His wand had flown out of his hand, and his head felt as though he had taken a bludger to the skull. He heard Dudley stumbling down the alley.

“DUDLEY COME BACK YOU’RE RUNNING RIGHT AT IT!

He knew his warning was too late when he heard Dudley’s footsteps stop and a quick yell. Before he could react, he felt a chill creep up behind him, which meant there was more than one. He snatched his wand and turned to come face-to-face with a towering, hooded figure. Harry knew the spell he needed to do, but he couldn’t concentrate.

“Expecto Patronum!”

A weak mist sprouted from Harry’s wand. The dementor brought its hood closer to Harry’s face as he struggled to think up a happy memory. He knew he just needed to concentrate, but the dementor was bringing up all the negative feelings he’d been having all summer. The only memory that he could conjure was the cemetery. All he could see was Cedric’s face as he was struck with the killing curse.

A pair of gray, slimy, scabbed hands slid from inside the dementor’s robes, reaching for Harry. He couldn’t hear Dudley anymore, only the high-pitched screaming in his own head that so often came with dementor attacks and the new mantra that had consumed him all summer.

_Useless. Crazy. Dangerous. Unloved._

He was still picturing the cemetery as he tried the spell again, only to earn another silver wisp. His mother’s screaming was in his ears and Cedric’s face before his eyes. Right as he was about to give into the despair, it hit him. His mother. Suddenly he recalled seeing her face and hearing her voice tell him “it will be alright.” As her voice filled his head replacing the mantra he fought for breath—

“EXPECTO PATRONUM!”

To Harry’s great relief, his silver stag burst from his wand and caught the dementor in its antlers. It tossed the dementor away before turning and heading towards Dudley’s. After the stag had swept that one away too, it turned to give Harry one last look before dissolving into mist. Immediately, the stars and streetlamps burst back into life. The summer heat came creeping back in and the noises of the neighborhood returned.

Harry could not believe what had just happened, and yet, he could feel a sense of pride that he had managed for a moment to let go of the negativity that had plagued him all summer. And then he turned to look at Dudley, curled up on the ground whimpering in fear and everything came rushing back in. Before Harry could check to see if he was okay, he heard footsteps approaching and turned to face the newcomer with his wand raised.

Mrs. Figg came scrambling around the corner and, as Harry made to hide his wand, shrieked at him, “Don’t put it away boy! What if they come back? I’m going to kill Mundungus Fletcher!”

“Wait, what?” said Harry blankly.

“He left!” said Mrs. Figg. “He was supposed to watch you today and he left to see about some stolen cauldrons! Now look what’s happened.”

Harry’s senses finally caught up with him and he stared at Mrs. Figg in shock.

“You’re a witch!?”

“I’m a squib, which Mundungus knows full well. But he still went off and left you unprotected!”

“Wait, he was following me?”

“Oh come now, you don’t think they left you unattended all this time?”

Mrs. Figg kept prattling on about Mundungus and telling Dumbledore, but Harry wasn’t listening anymore. Not only had he been kept in the dark all summer, but rather than bring him into the fold, they had spied on him from a distance. Numbly, he heard Mrs. Figg barking instructions at him. He helped get Dudley to his feet and start lugging him towards home.

Mrs. Figg kept up a steady stream of chatter, cursing Mundungus and the state of affairs they were in, but Harry was lost in his own mind. He didn’t know whether to be hurt or angry. He felt betrayed.

_Why couldn’t they just let me stay with Ron and Hermione if they’re so worried? If they cared so much why did they leave me all alone?”_

Harry saw Cedric’s face float across his vision again, and for a moment he felt as though the dementor had returned. When he really thought about it, it was almost as though one had been there all summer. In Little Whinging, life went on as normal. But Harry knew his life would never be normal again.

For a split second, he wanted nothing more than to speak with his friends, or Sirius. Then, he remember how they had ignored his pleas for help all summer and instead watched from afar as he crumbled. When it really came down to it, Harry thought, they could all go to hell.


	2. Taking You Away

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warning: There is self-harm in this chapter.

Harry felt the sting of alcohol as he cleaned the freshest cut on his arm. As he wiped the alcohol away and placed a small bandage on his forearm that his sleeves would hide, his mind reviewed the last three days.

His aunt and uncle had not been pleased when he returned home with a Dudley that could barely stand, much less communicate. The barrage of owls that followed his arrival home did nothing to alleviate either his or his uncle’s frustrations. From expelled to suspended, with not a word in edgewise from his friends, Harry was even more angry now than when he had heard he was being spied on. The only word he had received from his loved ones was another letter from Sirius telling him to stay put and not do anything rash.

Does cutting my arm with a razorblade count as rash thought Harry? If so, he had been rather rash all summer. He couldn’t explain it, but the small cuts on his arm gave him a sense of comfort. He couldn’t magically conjure news of Voldemort or his death eaters. He couldn’t make his aunt and uncle less awful. And despite his many pleas, he couldn’t make his friends and loved ones care enough to come to his aid. But this he could control.

After over a month of reliving the cemetery night after night, and after four days of reliving the dementor attack on top of that, Harry had to find ways to take his mind off the anger and sadness, or he would drown in it. And so, when he got his hands on an unused razor blade a week into summer break, he started putting it to use. He had heard of cutting off the telly several years back. He didn’t understand its appeal then, but he understood now.

In the wake of the attack, and the lack of support afterward, Harry’s mantra was back in full force.

_Useless. Crazy. Dangerous. Unloved._

“I took on dementors all by myself for Godric’s sake!” Harry mumbled angrily to himself. Though, he could have shouted it had he felt the need. His relatives had gone out for the night, leaving him alone. It was a feeling he was growing depressingly used too. After four years of attending Hogwarts, Harry had grown used to having friends. He had grown used to having someone, anyone, there to support him. And now, nothing. Nothing but silence.

It seems Harry had though too soon because just then he was startled by a loud crash coming from the kitchen. He pulled his sleeve down to cover his bandage and sat upright and still. There was silence for a few beats before he started to hear voices. The voices began to move out the kitchen and he could hear them begin up the stairs. He pulled out his wand and made his way to the door. He hesitated for just a moment before yanking it open and stepping out onto the landing with his hand held high, only to come face-to-face with none other than Mad-Eye Moody.

“Professor?” Harry asked.

Moody grunted in response. “Never actually got around to teaching did I? Lower that wand boy.”

Harry didn’t know what to make of this new development, but before he could decide what he wanted to do, he heard another familiar voice on the stairs.

“It’s alright Harry. We’ve come to take you away.”

“Remus?” Harry asked in disbelief. “Is that really you?”

“It’s really me Harry,” Remus answered, before whispering _Lumos_. The other witches and wizards currently taking up the Dursley household followed suit, and soon Harry could make out a sea of faces down the stairs and into the hallway. It took a moment for Harry to register Remus’ words. When he did, he was briefly filled with joy at being able to leave before the anger came back stronger than ever.

“What do you mean you’ve come to take me away?” Harry asked fiercely. “It’s a bit bloody late for that don’t you think?”

Remus appeared taken aback by Harry’s brashness. This was a big difference from the mild tempered young boy he had taught a year and a half ago. The entire party looked shocked, though Harry didn’t know any of them and was far past caring what a group of strangers thought. Remus looked as though he was unsure how to respond, but luckily for him one of the newcomers spoke up. A young lady with dark twinkling eyes and short spikey hair that was a violent shade of violet saved Remus from have to answer Harry’s accusation.

“Don’t you think that’s a little harsh there Harry?” she asked.

“Do I even know you?’ Harry asked.

This shook Remus out of his surprise and he stepped past Moody to get closer to Harry. He gestured to the purple-haired woman.

“This is Nymphadora—“

“Don’t call me Nymphadora,” she interrupted with a shudder.

“Who prefers to go by her surname Tonks,” finished Remus.

“Is any of that supposed to mean something to me?” Harry spat back.

“Come now Harry,” Remus said gently, worry filling his eyes. “This isn’t like you. We’re here to take you away. Isn’t that what you want?”

“Well I wanted it a month ago,” Harry all-but yelled at him. “I wanted it after I watched my friend die and faced the most feared wizard in the world. I wanted it as I sat here alone reliving those moments again and again with no word from anyone. Now all of a sudden I’m in ‘trouble’ so I’m worth paying attention too?”

Remus’ face had continued to drop the longer Harry spoke. Harry could see a tinge of sadness mixed in with the apprehension that had come with his initial outburst.

“I understand your frustration Harry—,”

“I don’t think you do,” Harry interrupted. “Because if you did, you would have come to _take me away_ much sooner. You wouldn’t have waited until I was a ‘problem’!” Remus looked like he wanted to protest again. Moody was moodily grunting behind him, and the rest of the party looked as though the last thing they wanted to do was get in the middle of this argument. Harry decided he had enough of their stares. As much as he wanted to be reunited with those he loved, he didn’t want to go if the only reason for it was that he was a problem that needed to be dealt with. “You know what? You didn’t answer my pleas then, so I don’t see any reason why I should care about yours now.” And with that, Harry turned and walked back into his room.

He could hear Moody protesting and several of the others agreeing, but he tuned them out when he heard Remus try and calm them down. _Let them be angry_ thought Harry. _Maybe then they might know how I feel._ Harry sat on his bed and stared at Hedwig’s empty cage. He had sent her with letters, but no one had bothered to reply in the four day since his attack. Another thing to fuel his anger. He subconsciously rubbed his arm where his scars were as he thought of all the reasons why he should be angry with everyone.

“WE DON’T HAVE TIME FOR THIS!” Moody yelled from the stairway. “You go in there and get that boy out. The rest of us will be waiting. If you’re not out in five minutes I’m dragging him out.”

Harry heard the party descend from the staircase after Moody’s ultimatum. Then, he heard a lone set of footsteps walk towards his door. He stood up to face Remus as he entered.

“Nice to see everyone is so understanding of my plight,” Harry said bitterly.

Remus sighed. “Harry, I know this might be hard to hear, but you need to understand you’re not the only one struggling right now. Every one of us is on edge. We just want to make sure you’re safe, and safe no longer means here.”

“So safe is with people who hate and abuse me is it? Safe is me in a muggle neighborhood without any means to protect myself?”

Remus had startled at the accusations. “I’m going to save that first one for a later time due to time constraints, but I would say you protected yourself just fine when it came down to it.”

“Yeah, and I’m about to be expelled for it.”

“Well perhaps we can help you with that,” Remus insisted. “But you have to leave with us Harry. Please.”

Harry didn’t answer. He looked at the meager possessions scattered about his tattered room. Most of his school things were locked in the cupboard under the stairs. His other things were either hand-me-downs or so old they were barely functional. When he looked at his bedroom door he could see the many locks to keep him inside and the dog flap to feed him. These four walls were his prison during the last few weeks. They offered him no release, only serving to remind him of how unloved he was.

_Useless. Crazy. Dangerous. Unloved. Freak._

Harry wanted to leave these walls behind more than anything. And despite his anger towards them, he longed to see his friends, even if just to yell at them. It would be better than the overwhelming, debilitating silence that had filled his life for the past month.

“Harry I’m begging you,” Remus said when it was clear Harry wasn’t going to respond. “If you want to rage and howl at us when we get to headquarters you can, but we need to get there first. You can file all your complaints one by one and scream until you run out of breath, but you need to come with me to do that.”

Harry knew he had a point, and he also knew the alternative was staying with the Dursleys. It wasn’t much of a decision. He would rather be surrounded with magical people he was angry with than non-magical ones who hated his very existence. He finally looked up at Remus and nodded. Remus’ whole body sagged with relief, and they silently gathered the things he needed from his room.

“Where is your trunk and school things?’ Remus asked.

“They’re locked in the cupboard under the stairs,” Harry replied.

“Then how do you do your school work.”

“I don’t.”

Remus looked as if he wanted to say something about that, but just as he opened his mouth to speak, they heard Moody’s unmistakable voice shout “TIMES UP. COME DOWN OR I DRAG YOU DOWN.”

“We’re coming Alastor,” Remus answered. “Do us a favor and open up the cupboard under the stairs. Harry’s things are there.”

“You heard the man Tonks. Get to it.”

Harry could hear Tonks comply as he and Remus made their way downstairs. They threw his belongings in his trunk, quickly making sure everything was there before shutting it and grabbing his broomstick.

The group made their way to the backyard with Harry in the middle as if they thought he would make a run for it. Harry couldn’t lie, the thought had crossed his mind, but without being able to do magic undetected, he knew it would be a waste of time. Moody shouted orders about not breaking ranks and positions and other nonsense. Harry silently mounted his broom and took to the air. The others seemed as if they didn’t even want to look at him. He could tell he had disappointed some admirers of the famous “boy who lived,” but he could truly care less.

They flew for what seemed like an hour. The chill numbed not only Harry’s body, but his mind as well. For a moment, Harry was able to forget his anger and simply enjoy himself. He had always and would always love flying. He hoped nothing would be able to ruin it. However, it was rather cold, so when he heard Remus order the descent, he was thankful.

They landed on a street filled with grimy looking houses the exact opposite of the Dursleys’ modest, and spotless, home. He looked around, wondering which one was their destination. As if to answer his unspoken question, Moody shuffled up and shoved a sheet of paper into his hands.

“Hear, read this quickly and memorize it.”

Harry looked down at the piece of parchment. The familiar handwriting he recognized as Dumbledore’s read:

_The headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix may be found at number twelve, Grimmauld Place, London._

The moment he looked up, Moody snatched the paper from his hands and set fire to it. Harry glanced at the houses in front of him. To his left was number 11 and to his right was number 13.

Just as he began to ask, “But where’s—?” a battered door appear between houses 11 and 13. It was followed swiftly by the other portions of the house until the entire grimy thing stood before him.

“Come on, hurry,” growled Moody, shoving Harry towards the door.

Well, here goes nothing thought Harry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My plan is to try and post a new chapter every Saturday. I am a full time English instructor, so this may be difficult, but it is the goal.


	3. To Reconcile or To Not Reconcile

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one was so cathartic to write. I hope it is as cathartic for you all to read.

Harry was all but pushed in to the darkness of the hall. Soon the old fashioned gas lamps that littered the walls sprung to life, though it didn’t do much in the way of improvements. The light just meant Harry could see how old and filthy this place was. The wallpaper was peeling. The carpets were threadbare, and cobwebs littered the ceiling and light fixtures. Harry had just enough time to wonder to himself why they couldn’t have found a nicer place when Moody began to push him down the hallway. They had barely made it three steps before Mrs. Weasley emerged from a door at the far end of the hall.

“Oh Harry it’s so good to see you!” she whispered and pulled him in for a bone-crushing hug. She pulled back to look at him clearly and said “You’re looking a bit peaky, but dinner will have to wait.” She turned towards the others. “The meeting’s started.”

The group filed past Harry into the room Mrs. Weasley had come from.

“What meeting?” asked Harry looking from Mrs. Weasley to Remus. Mrs. Weasley looked as though she wanted to respond, but Remus cut her off.

“I give you my word Harry we will explain it all afterwards,” he said softly. “The meeting is for members only and it’s quiet urgent that we go.”

“You can wait upstairs with Ron and Hermione,” Mrs. Weasley added. “We’ll have dinner after the meeting.”

Harry couldn’t believe his ears. They had dragged him all the way hear only to push him aside the moment he arrived?

“You’re not serious,” Harry asked, staring hard a Remus. He could see out of the corner of his eye that Mrs. Weasley was about to try and placate him, but he didn’t want to hear it. “You brought me all the way here, after an entire bloody month alone, just to abandon me all over again when we arrive?”

“Oh Harry. It’s not like that at all—” Mrs. Weasley began.

“Well it sure sounds like it,” Harry interrupted. He looked back at Remus, barely able to contain his anger. “So what? Everything you said back at the Dursleys’ was a lie?”

“Not at all Harry,” Remus said quickly. “I swear to you we _will _explain. Me and Sirius and Molly and Arthur will all explain ourselves. We will give you your chance to speak, but right now we _have _to go to this meeting.” Harry attempted to protest again, but Remus cut him off. “Please Harry. Ron and Hermione are upstairs. They can start to fill you in. You can catch up with your friends and then come down for supper with the rest of us. I swear that before you go to bed tonight you will be all caught up.”

Remus squeezed Harry’s shoulder and gave him one last look before turning towards the door that apparently led to a meeting room. Mrs. Weasley led Harry to the stairs past more old, dilapidated, and downright creepy objects.

“Just go up to the second landing and it’s the door to your right.” Mrs. Weasley looked at Harry with pleading eyes and he couldn’t bring himself to argue. She turned to head back towards the meeting as he began the trek upstairs. This must be what having a mother feels like he thought.

Once Harry made it to the right door, with a doorknob shaped like a serpent’s head no less (seriously what kind of house is this he thought), he yanked it open. He had just enough time to glimpse more gloomy furniture and peeling wallpaper before his vision was obstructed by a mass of bushy hair and he was encased in his second bone-crushing hug of the night.

“HARRY!” Hermione half-shouted. “You’re finally here! We didn’t hear you come in! Look Ron, Harry’s here.”

“Yeah, yeah Hermione I see him,” Harry heard Ron say from inside the room. “You going to let him in or suffocate him?”

The entire time this was happening Harry stood stock still. He did not move to hug Hermione back. He did not quite feel that she deserved one just yet. He wanted answers first. Then, and only then, would he consider forgiveness. Hermione, ever intuitive, felt something was wrong and pulled back. She was startled at the icy glare Harry leveled her with.

“Harry what’s wrong?” she asked with worry in her eyes.

“What’s wrong?” Harry looked between the two of them. Ron looked as confused as Hermione did alarmed. “Do you really need to ask me that? Weeks I spend all alone with nothing but the Dursleys for company. Not a lick of news from anyone, least of all the two people that are supposed to be my best friends. No support whatsoever and you have the audacity to ask what’s wrong?”

“Woah mate,” Ron stammered. “I think you’re being a little harsh.”

“Oh am I now?”

“Harry please, just let us explain,” begged Hermione. “We wanted to tell you everything, but Dumbledore made us swear not too.”

“So that’s it then? Dumbledore tells you too keep quiet and you decide that’s a better option than actually telling your _best friend_ what’s going on with the people who want to kill him?”

“Dumbledore seemed to think it was best mate,” Ron argued.

“And you just took his word for it?” Harry retorted. “You never stopped to think that maybe he was wrong?”

“Well, no,” Ron answered. “It’s Dumbledore.”

“He wanted you to be safe,” Hermione interjected. “Everyone did. We wanted you to come here, but they all seemed to think you were safer with the Muggles.”

“Safer with the Dursleys!” Harry was dumbfounded. “Safer with the people who hate and abuse me? Safer with the people who lock me in my room and starve me? Or perhaps you forgot second year Ron when you and your brother had to break me out through the bars in my window?”

“Of course not mate,” Ron insisted. “But there’s only so much we can do when the adults—“

“So the adults say something is true without any evidence to back them up and you keep yours hidden?” Harry shot back. “I guess I’m just safer in a muggle neighborhood where I can’t even defend myself because apparently that means you can be expelled? I suppose you two have been attacked by all sorts of dark creatures locked away here in this safe house?”

Ron and Hermione exchanged a look. Harry was right, and they both knew it. Hermione looked back at Harry with tears in her eyes.

“Harry we’re so, so sorry. You have to believe us. You’re right. We should have questioned Dumbledore. He just always knows what to do. We didn’t stop to think that maybe there was even a possibility he was wrong.”

“So knowing how much I hate being at my aunt and uncle’s house wasn’t a bit of an indicator that perhaps I’d be better off somewhere else?” Harry shook his head in disbelief. “I thought you two of all people would understand. Knowing everything that I’ve been through and what happened to me in that cemetery. Knowing that I had to watch Ce—” Harry cut himself off. He turned around so his friends wouldn’t see the tears that had come into his own eyes. He didn’t want to appear weak.

He heard Hermione take a step towards him. “We are sorry Harry. We understand what you’ve been through—”

That was the final straw. Harry snapped.

“NO YOU DON’T KNOW HERMIONE! NO ONE KNOWS BECAUSE NO ONE WAS THERE! NO ONE WAS IN THE CEMETERY AND NO ONE WAS THERE FOR ME AFTER! NOT A ONE OF YOU WAS THERE WHEN I NEEDED YOU TO BE!”

Hermione had jumped back at his outburst. The tears were flowing down her face now. Ron stepped in front of her and held up his hands.

“Please mate just hear us out,” he pleaded. “We can tell you what’s been going on, but we can’t change the past. What’s done is done.”

“OH SO THAT’S IT? IT’S ALL OVER NOW SO I SHOULD JUST FORGIVE YOU? I SHOULD JUST PRETEND THAT ALL THESE SHITTY THINGS HAVEN’T HAPPENED AND EVERYTHING’S FINE!”

Before either Ron or Hermione could respond, Harry’s anger took over and he grabbed the nearest object, which just happened to be a lamp, and heaved it at the wall. It hit with a loud bang and shattered. Hermione and Ron had leapt back and knocked over everything that was on the desk in the corner. Before anyone could even think of responding, shrieks from downstairs filled the house.

_“Filth! Scum! By-products of dirt and vileness! Half-breeds, mutants, freaks, begone from this place! How dare you befoul the house of my fathers—”_

Harry could hear doors opening and people scrambling around downstairs. Before he could ask what was going on, he heard several sets of footsteps pounding up the stairs. The door burst open and Sirius, Remus, and Mr. Weasley came rushing in. They took in the broken lamp, Ron’s fear, and the tears streaking down Hermione’s face. Remus was the first to speak.

“Ron, Hermione, why don’t the two of you go downstairs and help Molly with dinner?” They both hesitated, looking at Harry. Remus continued, “You’ll have plenty of time to talk to him later, but perhaps Sirius and I should take things from here.” He turned and whispered something to Mr. Weasley.

Mr. Weasley then led Ron and Hermione out the room, and Harry heard them head downstairs. Harry was still seething, and he tried in vain to get his breathing under control as Remus closed the door and turned back to him. The three of them stared at one another, unsure of who should begin, or even where they should begin. Harry decided to be the one to break the silence. He looked at Sirius.

“So are you going to say something helpful or is this the moment where you tell me not to do something rash?”

Sirius had the decency to look ashamed. He looked again at the broken lamp on the floor. “Um, no I think we probably deserved that. Besides it was an ugly lamp,” Sirius said with a laugh, hoping to ease some of the tension. Harry wasn’t buying it.

“I think you deserve a lot more than that,” Harry spit out.

Remus tried to intervene. “Harry we know you’re angry—”

“Everyone seems to _know_ how I feel and yet if any of you actually did you wouldn’t have left me alone.”

“Dumbledore—” Remus began.

“Ordered everyone not to tell me anything. Yeah I got the memo.”

“So you understand then Harry,” Sirius pleaded, taking a step forward. “It isn’t that we didn’t want you here. That’s actually the farthest from the truth you could be. We wanted you here Harry. I wanted you here.”

“Really?”

“Yes Harry really,” Sirius insisted. Remus nodded his head alongside him.

“Then let me ask the both of you a question. If Dumbledore had ordered you to abandon my dad, to not tell him anything that was going on even if it affected him, to purposely keep him out of the loop, what would you have done?”

Harry stared at the two of them. Neither would meet his eyes. It felt like ages before Sirius finally gave Harry the answer he wanted.

“I would have told him immediately,” Sirius answered. “I would have went to him and brought him here.”

This was the answer Harry had expected, and still hearing it brought all new levels of anger and pain.

_Useless. Crazy. Dangerous. Unloved._

Harry wanted to yell and scream at them. He wanted to let them know all the ways they hurt him, but the words wouldn’t come. Instead Remus filled the silence.

“You make an excellent point Harry,” he began, “but you also need to understand Sirius and I can’t think of you like we would James. We have to think of you the way a parent would. The way a guardian would. We have to think about what’s best, and not just what we want. Dumbledore assured us this was the best thing for you.”

“How?” Harry asked.

“How what?’ Remus asked.

“How did he assure you? What did he say to make you think abandoning me at the Dursleys’ was the best option?”

“He said that was where you were safest,” Sirius said, uncharacteristically quiet. “He said they couldn’t reach you there. It’s a special kind of magic that only comes with family. And to be extra safe we had a 24-hour guard around you. He said it would be best for you if you were away from all this drama and with your relatives.”

Harry stared at Sirius in disbelief. “You have got to be kidding me,” he finally manage to choke out. Remus stared hard at Harry.

“Harry, you said back at their house that they abused you. What did you mean by that?” Sirius looked up at that. He looked from Remus to Harry, finally settling on Harry to wait for his answer.

“Ask Dumbledore he seems to know everything about my life,” Harry said instead.

“Harry,” Sirius begged. “Tell us. What did you mean?”

“Don’t you have eyes Remus?” Harry asked. “What, you’re going to say you didn’t see the locks or dog-flap on my door? You didn’t stop to wonder why my things were locked in the cupboard? It doesn’t bother you that my clothes are three times too big and several years old?”

By the time Harry had finished Sirius and Remus were looking at Harry in horror. “Harry, I swear to you we didn’t know,” Sirius insisted.

“He’s right Harry we didn’t,” said Remus. “Dumbledore assured us—”

“Well, my Hogwarts letter was addressed to the cupboard under the stairs so I think it’s safe to assume he knew about what they were doing to me. I suppose since he knows best, we should all assume it’s nothing to worry about right?”

“Harry—”

“Just go,” Harry said. “I don’t have anything more to say to either of you.”

“But Harry—”

“JUST GO!” Harry shouted. Sirius and Remus hesitated for another moment, but the look in Harry’s eyes told them it was best if they continued this conversation another time. They quietly walked out and closed the door behind them. Harry locked it for good measure. He had enough excuses for one night.

Harry looked around at the shabby room and his eyes rested on the broken lamp. Tears welled up in his eyes and he couldn’t stop them from spilling over this time. He turned and got into one of the beds. All his anger and pain had left him drained. He curled in on himself, and as much as he dreaded sleeping, he couldn’t stop himself from drifting off.

_“Kill the spare.”_

_A flash of green light erupted from Pettigrew’s wand and hit Cedric straight in his chest. The spell’s momentum flung him backward onto the ground._

_“CEDRIC!” Harry yelled. “No. No Cedric don’t go.” Harry struggled to crawl over to Cedric’s body, but invisible hands held him back._

_He could hear maniacal laughing behind him. He continued to struggle against his invisible bonds, and when he blinked he was no longer in the cemetery. He was in a dark room, bound by invisible rope. He could see a handful of hooded figures clustered in the shadows of the room. Voldemort stood before him, wand in hand._

_“So you are telling me,” Voldemort drawled, “that the boy was moved without our knowledge? That at this very moment, he is in a safe house we cannot hope to find?”_

_“My…my lord,” Harry heard himself stammer, but the voice was not his own. “My lord forgive me I could not find out in advance—”_

_Harry was cut off. He barely registered Voldemort’s raised wand and the quiet, but forceful, crucio. What he did register was the pain. Terrible, excruciating pain. It racked his entire body. All he could do was scream. He tried in vain to form words._

_“I’m so..rry. I’m…so…so..ry—”_

_“Harry!”_

_Harry tried to turn his head towards the voice. He heard his name again, and then he felt hands on his shoulders shaking him. He could hear voices. He was trying to make out what they were saying. He was straining to hear them, and then…_

“Harry! Harry wake up please!”

Harry opened his eyes, and began to flail around. He needed to get rid of the ropes. To shake off the curse.

“Harry! Harry stop it’s me! It’s Sirius Harry. You’re safe!”

Harry stopped fighting and looked into Sirius’ gray eyes. Sirius still had his shoulders in a tight grip. When Harry looked up he saw Remus standing behind him, looking more worried than he had ever seen him. He turned towards the door and saw Mr. and Mrs. Weasley looking equally concerned.

“Harry it’s okay. You’re safe,” Sirius repeated. Harry was shaking, and he was struggling to breathe properly. He grabbed onto Sirius’ wrists and focused on letting air into his lungs. “That’s it Harry. That’s it. Just relax. You’re safe. We’re here.” After a few minutes, Harry was breathing normally and his shaking had quieted a bit.

“Does this happen often Harry?” Remus asked quietly.

It was at that moment that Harry realized he had tears streaming down his face. “Yes,” he croaked, his voice hoarse from screaming. “I dream of Cedric and the cemetery nearly every night. But this was different.” He looked up at them. “It started in the cemetery, but then I was someplace else. I was someone else. Voldemort was there. He was angry that you guys had moved me without his knowing. He was torturing someone. He was torturing me.”

By the time Harry had finished speaking, he was shaking again and the tears were coming harder. Sirius gathered him up in his arms. Harry tensed at first, not being used to such shows of comfort. But after a moment, he realized he felt safe in Sirius’ arms. Sirius was whispering soothing words to him and rubbing circles on his back. Harry wrapped his arms around him and held on for dear life. His head was buried in Sirius’ shoulder, so he didn’t see the look all the adults shared. Sirius held Harry until he managed to fall back asleep.

“Sirius what do we do?” Remus asked desperately.

“I don’t know Remus,” Sirius answered. “I don’t know. All I know right now is I’m going to stay with him tonight. I’m not leaving him alone after this.”

“Maybe we can ask Severus for some dreamless sleep,” suggested Arthur.

“That’s not a permanent solution,” sniffled Molly, wiping tears from her eyes. “We can’t just give him a potion every night.”

“Molly’s right,” said Remus. “But maybe Severus could help us in another way.” He looked at Harry still held tight in Sirius arms. “You stay with him. I’ll go call Severus.”

“And Dumbledore,” Sirius said tersely. “I have a few choice words for him.”

Remus nodded, and with that he and the Weasleys left the room. Sirius did his best to reposition Harry to where Sirius was resting his back against the headboard. He continued rubbing circles on Harry’s back. He listened to his even breathing, and wondered how bad off Harry had to be, to hold onto him so tightly even in sleep. Sirius thought that he was never meant to be a parent, but now that this responsibility had come to him, he wasn’t going to muck it up a second time.

And Harry, for the first time in weeks, slept peacefully.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next weekend I will be in Disney World. I will attempt to post the next chapter either before we leave for the parks Saturday morning or when we get back that night, but I can't make any promises. So if the next chapter is a few days late don't hate me.


	4. Family Struggles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's late. Disney World has me beat. Also, sorry if there are any typos. I don't have the energy to proofread.

Harry did not wake all at once. For the first time in ages, he hadn’t startled himself awake, mid-choke, mid-sob and struggled to gain his breathe. Instead, he gained consciousness slowly, as if his mind wasn’t quite ready up wake up.

The first thing he was aware of was warmth. In another few seconds, he realized that warmth was coming from a body. He could feel a chest under his head and arms wrapped tightly around him. He could feel the chest moving as it talked. He was starting to hear voices, but he wasn’t quite awake enough to make them out. Part of him felt as though it was important that he awake, but the rest of him disagreed. He couldn’t remember be this well-rested and comfortable in a long time. He snuggled closer into whoever was holding him, and at his movement, he heard the voices come to an abrupt halt. He felt a hand begin to run through his hair.

“Harry,” a soft voice said. “You awake?”

“Mhmmmm…” he grumbled. He felt the chest beneath his head huff out a laugh.

“No then?” said a voice he finally recognized as Sirius’. “I suppose you don’t want any breakfast then?”

The moment the question left Sirius’ lips, Harry realized exactly how hungry he was. He hadn’t eaten since before he had left the Dursleys’. That was the motivation he needed to leave the cocoon he had found himself unwilling to leave.

“Mmm, I could go for breakfast,” he mumbled quietly, still refusing to lift his head or even open his eyes. He felt Sirius laugh again.

“I’ll go grab some love,” said a voice he recognized as Mrs. Weasley. “But I’m afraid you’ll have to wake up to actually eat it.” Harry heard her footsteps leave the room and head downstairs.

“Come on mutt,” Sirius said, trying to shove Harry off of him. “Time to get up.” Harry begrudgingly sat up and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. When he opened them, someone was holding his glasses in front his face. He put them on as he moved off of Sirius’ legs and onto the bed itself. He looked around the room. Remus was leaning against the desk. Mr. Weasley was sitting on the opposite bed, and Sirius was rubbing his legs on the bed next to Harry. Many questions started running through Harry’s head.

“What time is it? What’s going on?” Harry asked.

“It’s nearly ten,” answered Mr. Weasley. “We thought it best to let you sleep.”

“As to what’s going on, how well to you remember last night?” asked Remus.

Harry looked between the three of them. He had waited all summer for the chance to talk about his struggles with someone, but now that he was here, he was afraid to admit it. “I had a nightmare,” is what he went with in the end.

“Do you remember what it was about?” asked Sirius.

“The cemetery. Same as always.”

“So you remember what else?” Sirius asked again.

Harry thought for a moment. Last night’s dream had been different, but it took him a moment to remember why. “I left the cemetery. I went someplace else. Voldemort was there. He was torturing me.” Harry looked up to see all three men had worried expressions on their faces. “What? What is it?”

Before they could answer him, Mrs. Weasley walked in with a trade loaded with more food than Harry thought he had seen all summer. “Now you eat up,” she said placing the tray over his lap. “You’re looking far too peakish.”

Harry was about to protest that he couldn’t possibly eat that much, but as he looked at the tray of food, his stomach grumbled loudly, and he decided to give it his best.

“So what about my dream has you so worried?” he asked as he started shoveling eggs into his mouth. The four adults looked at one another before speaking.

“We wouldn’t be as worried if it was just the cemetery,” said Remus. “Obviously, we are worried for you and want to help with your nightmares, but it is only natural that you’d be haunted by the events of that night. I imagine it was rather traumatizing.”

Harry looked down at his food so Remus wouldn’t see his face. He wasn’t sure what he was feeling. He has glad his struggles were finally being acknowledged, and he has happy Remus wasn’t pretending to know what he went through, but he couldn’t help feeling a bit embarrassed by the whole situation.

“What’s got us worried,” Sirius piped up, “is the second bit.” Harry looked at him curiously. “That was something you hadn’t experienced personally. You weren’t actually there, and yet you saw it. That presents a problem. You shouldn’t be able to see into Voldemort’s mind like that. We’re worried that…” Sirius trailed off and looked at Remus. The adults all exchanged a look as if deciding what to say.

“You’re worried about what?” Harry asked looking from Sirius to Remus.

“We promised him we wouldn’t keep things from him,” Remus said to Sirius. “We promised ourselves we wouldn’t do that again.” Sirius looked down at his own lap and sighed.

“Remus is right.” Sirius turned towards Harry. “We’re worried if you can see into his mind, that it might be possible that he could see into yours. I’m sure you can imagine that would be a problem.”

Harry looked between them to see how they reacted to this news. They all looked grim, so Harry knew this was serious. “So what do we do?”

“Well, we’ve spoken to Dumbledore,” began Remus.

“About a great number of things,” interrupted Sirius. “He has been quite unhelpful about certain matters.” Sirius shared a look with Harry, who felt warmth fill his chest at the implication that Sirius was sticking up for him.

“True,” said Remus. “But he has been helpful in other matters. He has agreed to offer us assistance for stopping your visions, but you may not like it.”

“Hell I don’t exactly like it,” said Sirius angrily.

“Like what?” asked Harry.

“Tell me Harry,” began Mr. Weasley. “What do you know about occlumency?”

Harry scrunched his face up in confusion. “Occlu—what?” 

“Occlumency,” said Remus. “It is a form of magic that allows a person to close off their mind from others. There is the opposite, legilimency, which allows a witch or wizard to look into another’s mind. Voldemort is rather talented at this particular brand of magic, and if he discovers the connection between your minds, he will likely try to use it.”

“By studying occlumency, you can protect yourself from these kinds of intrusions,” said Mr. Weasley.

“Okay, so what’s the problem?” asked Harry, certain he was missing something.

“It isn’t that you have to learn it that is the problem,” said Sirius. “It is the person who will be teaching you.”

“Who?”

“Someone who is exceptionally good at it,” said Remus. “And I want to stress Harry, that this was my suggestion and not Dumbledore’s. I know you aren’t particularly fond of this person, but he really is the best option.”

Harry’s stomach was starting to sink. Sirius had a look on his face that could only be described as disgust, as if he had smelt something particularly awful. There was only one person who could give Sirius that look.

“Please don’t say what I think you’re going to say,” Harry pleaded.

“Professor Snape has agreed to be the one to teach you, and personally I think we should all be thankful,” said Mr. Weasley.

Harry groaned, and Sirius patted him on the back and gave him a consoling look. “Does it have to be him?” Harry asked. “Isn’t there anyone else?”

“Severus is the best option,” insisted Remus. “He really is the most qualified. And as he has agreed to help, I feel you should be willing to give it a chance. Or do you want Voldemort to take over your mind?”

“Or do you want to keep dreaming of the cemetery night after night?” Mrs. Weasley asked softly.

Harry sighed. He knew they had a point. He really had to learn this skill. His mind was already messed up enough without Voldemort playing around in it.

“So when does this start?” Harry asked bitterly.

Harry learned he had until the following evening to prepare for his first lesson. Snape had provided dreamless sleep for Harry to take that night, so that he would be well rested and ready for his lesson. While Harry was excited at the prospect of not having nightmares, he really wished he could be taught be anyone else.

“Can’t one of you teach me?” Harry asked Remus and Sirius.

“Neither of us are skilled in the art,” Remus said. “It is a rarer form of magic. One neither of us have had the opportunity nor need to practice.”

“You could always ask Dumbledore to teach you,” Sirius said.

Harry scoffed. Dumbledore had still not come to Grimmauld Place. While Harry had a bone to pick, he was also not ready to confront his headmaster. And so he accepted his fate.

After the matter had been settled, Remus finally made good on his promise and filled Harry in on all that he had missed. He finally learned about all that had happened the past few weeks, the Order, headquarters, and what they knew of Voldemort. And yet, they wouldn’t tell him everything.

“But what is _the_ weapon?” Harry begged.

“No,” said Remus, unmoved. “There are certain things that only members of the Order needs to be aware of and you are not part of the order. Nor will you be,” he added as he saw Harry start to protest.

“But…”

“No buts. You’re still a child Harry. Everything I’ve told you is the same that your friends know. They aren’t aware of what goes on in the meetings either.”

No matter what Harry said, Remus and Sirius wouldn’t budge on this. Instead, they sent him to where the others were. Harry missed Ron and Hermione more than anything, but he was still too angry for forgiveness. Sirius’ admission that he wouldn’t have kept James in the dark still rang in his head. He couldn’t help but feel that perhaps they weren’t as good of friends as he had originally thought. Ron had already abandoned him once. It was with this train of thought that he came upon them.

He found them with Mrs. Weasley, helping to clean out the drawing room. This was apparently what his friends and the remainder of the Weasley gang had been doing while the Order did whatever it was the Order was busy doing. Everyone stopped to look at him when he entered the room, and Ron and Hermione gave him eyes full of hope. Harry resolutely ignored them. He turned to Mrs. Weasley instead.

“I was sent here to help clean,” he said.

“Well we’re glad to have you,” Mrs. Weasley said.

“What do you need me to help with,” he asked, still refusing to look at Ron and Hermione.

Sensing the tension, Mrs. Weasley suggested, “Why don’t you go help Fred and George with the curtains. They’re filled with doxies.”

And so Harry helped the twins. He couldn’t help but laugh from time to time at their antics, but any happiness he could have had was ruined by the stares he could _feel_ directed his way by Ron and Hermione. He could hear them whispering to one another in between their glances, but he didn’t so much as acknowledge their presence. He only acknowledged Ron’s siblings. After a few hours of this and a late lunch, Harry slipped away to explore his new temporary home. As happy as he was to be in the loop and where everyone else was, there were only so many longing glances he could take. He knew it would be hard to keep this up while being stuck in the same house, but Harry was in no way ready to forgive just yet.

Many doors were locked, and a good number he opened looked either freshly cleaned or untouched. Eventually, he made his way to a room, some sort of drawing room or parlor, that had a tapestry covering an entire wall. Upon closer inspection, he realized it was a family tree. He began to search through the various names.

“I see you found my family tree,” said Sirius from the doorway, startling Harry who had been too absorbed to hear him enter.

“What do you mean _your _family?” Harry asked once he recovered.

“Well, this place is my family home,” he said as he walked over to stand in front the tapestry. He pointed at a man who looked like an older version of Sirius. The banner under the image said “Orion.” “That’s dear old dad.” A line connected the man to a woman Harry recognized from the portrait downstairs. “And that’s mum.”

“So the screaming portrait that insults everyone in the house?”

“So you understand my dislike for them?” Sirius asked with a bitter laugh.

“Wow,” said Harry. “She seems even worse than Aunt Petunia.” That took Sirius out of his reverie.

“Harry, just how bad is your Aunt Petunia?” Harry didn’t answer. “You mentioned things like locks on doors and being starved. Was all that true? What exactly did those people do to you?”

Harry sighed and turned back to the tapestry, tracing the lines that connected the images. “The Dursleys hate magic,” he finally said. “I didn’t know I was a wizard until Hagrid found me on my 11th birthday, but they knew even if I didn’t. And they hated me for it. Dudley was the golden child who could do no wrong and I was the freak who messed everything up. So, yeah. Everything I said was true.”

As Harry finished, he finally turned to look at Sirius. He could see both anger and sadness floating across his features. “Oh, Harry.” Sirius enveloped him in a tight hug. Harry wasn’t used to this kind of affection from family, but just like the previous night, he realized it was comforting. “Harry I swear to you if I had even an inkling of what life was like for you there I would never have let you go back.” Sirius pulled back to look Harry in the eyes. “You have to know that.”

“I know Sirius,” he replied. “I believe you.”

“And I don’t care what Dumbledore says, you’re never going back there,” Sirius insisted. “Besides, if this summer has proved anything it’s that your no safer there than any place else.”

“Thanks Sirius. You don’t know what that means.”

“Oh, but I do Harry,” Sirius said. He looked back at the tapestry. “The Black family are purebloods to the core. The lapped up all that nonsense Voldemort spews. I ran away when I was 16. I know what it means to be at odds with your family. To be mistreated in your own home.”

“Where did you go?” Harry asked.

“Your dads,” Sirius replied with a smile. “I was always welcome at the Potters’. They showed me what a real family was supposed to look like.”

The thought of his dad taking Sirius in made Harry smile. He turned back to the tapestry to look at Sirius’ parents. Below them, there was a line leading to a burnt out hole and another leading to a young man named Regulus.

“Who’s Regulus?” asked Harry. “And where are you?”

Sirius pointed to the burnt hole. “I was there. My charming mother blasted me off the tree when I ran away. I wasn’t worthy of being part of the family anymore.” Sirius traced the banner with the name “Regulus” on it. “Regulus was my brother.”

“I didn’t know who had a brother,” Harry said. “What happened to him?”

“No one knows,” Sirius said quietly. “I’m certain he became a Death Eater. But then he just disappeared. He must have died. I just wish I knew how.”

“I’m sorry Sirius,” said Harry. “That must be awful.”

“Let’s just agree we both had awful childhoods we didn’t deserve eh?” Sirius said with a smile, throwing an arm around Harry’s shoulders.

“Agreed,” Harry said, with his first real laugh in weeks.

“Speaking of Regulus,” Sirius said, “I want to show you something. Come on.” Sirius led Harry out the room and up the stairs to the top landing. There were two doors there. One had a plaque that said “Sirius Orion Black” and another underneath that said “Keep Out.” The second door had a plaque that read “Regulus Arcturus Black.”

“Was this his room?” Harry asked.

“Yes,” Sirius answered. “And this one’s mine. We had intended for you to share the room Ron is in, but given everything that’s happened, I’d rather have you closer to me. This way if you have a nightmare, I can be close by to help. So I had Kreacher clean up Regulus’ old room for you. He through a fit, but I told him he didn’t have to clean it out, just make it livable again.” Sirius opened the door to expose a rather nice, if not old and worn, room.

“Who’s Kreacher?”

“Oh he’s the Black family house elf,” Sirius said. “You haven’t met him yet?” Harry shook his head no. “Well he’s positively awful. Little bugger always hated me. He worshipped the ground my mother walked on. Regulus too.”

Harry stepped into the room. “Thanks for this Sirius. It means a lot.”

“Don’t mention it,” Sirius said as he stepped into the room behind Harry. “Now, if you’re not tired of serious discussion yet, we should probably talk about the hearing you’re going to have at the ministry. Dumbledore will do most of the talking, and I know how angry you are at him. How angry we are. But all things considered it will probably be best if you let him work his magic.”

Harry sighed. “What should I expect?”

“Come on, let’s sit and talk.” And with that, Sirius closed the door. They hashed out what Harry needed to do for the hearing, including getting him a set of formal robes, which Sirius was appalled to discover he lacked. Given that discovery Sirius and Harry sat for the rest of the day, and had a legitimate discussion. Not a discussion about abusive families or secret organizations, but the kind of discussion a godson would want to have with his godfather.

Part of Harry was still angry when he thought of the way he had been treated. But then, he thought of everything Sirius was doing to make up for it, and for the first time since he had faced Voldemort in the cemetery, Harry felt genuinely happy.


	5. Extra Lessons

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning: mentions of self-harm in this chapter.

Remus returned to headquarters the following morning and, per his request, Harry began his summer schoolwork. It needed to get done anyway, and Harry figured this was better than spending the day ignoring Ron and Hermione while they were only feet away from him.

“If your books were always locked in the cupboard, how did you complete your school work?” asked Remus.

“Sometimes I was able to pick the lock and sneak a few books out, but most of the time I had to do it when we got back to Hogwarts,” Harry answered.

“And you didn’t think to tell anybody about that?” asked Remus.

“I didn’t think anyone would care,” Harry replied. “None of the muggle teachers ever did.” Remus looked as if he wanted to say something, but then changed his mind. He informed Harry he and Sirius would be in one of the downstairs studies if he needed anything and left Harry to his work.

By lunchtime, he had only managed to complete his history of magic essay. If there was ever a time to need Hermione, Harry thought, it was now. However, it wasn’t enough to make him forgive her. Being in the same room yesterday had only reminded him of how angry he was at them. He figured it was time they got a taste of their own medicine.

Sirius and Remus joined him for lunch. When they were done, Remus stayed to help Harry with his charms essay, while Sirius went…somewhere.

“Is he okay?” asked Harry.

Remus sighed. “Sirius was never the most stable of people Harry. Spending 12 years in Azkaban certainly didn’t help matters. He’s been struggling since he got out, and being back in this house doesn’t help.” Harry looked away guiltily. If Sirius was that bad off, surely his outbursts hadn’t helped matters. “Don’t even start Harry.” Harry looked at Remus in confusion. “Sirius would much rather know what you are going through than let you suffer alone. Don’t feel bad for telling him.”

“I just don’t want to make anything worse is all,” Harry said.

“The only thing that would make this worse was if Sirius knew you were keeping things from him that he could help you with,” Remus assured him. “This is what family does. They help one another, no matter what.”

They worked through Harry’s essay. Harry still had to do the work, but it was nice to have Remus there to guide him.

“Thanks Remus,” Harry said. “Hermione always drives me crazy when I ask for help. I wish you were still our professor. You’re good at this.”

Remus gave Harry a rueful smile. “Speaking of Hermione, how long do you plan to hold out your forgiveness? Both her and Ron have been quite destressed.”

“I’ll forgive them when they’ve earned it,” Harry snapped angrily.

“How can they earn it if you won’t talk to them?” Remus asked.

“Well if it means that much to them they’ll come up with something.”

Remus sat up straighter in his chair. “Can I ask you something Harry?”

“Sure. Shoot.”

“Why have you forgiven Sirius and I, but not your friends? Aren’t we guilty of the same crime?”

Harry thought about this for a moment. He wasn’t quite sure how to answer that question. It was rather hard to explain. “Well, you know, I never actually did say I forgave you guys,” he finally said with a small smile.

Remus huffed a laugh. “True, but you’re speaking to me. That must mean something.”

Harry sighed. “I guess it’s like what you said when I first got here. You and Sirius can’t look at me like a friend. I’m not my dad. I’m your responsibility, and you’re supposed to take care of me. And yeah I’m angry about the way things went down and that neither of you were there, but at the end of the day you did what you thought was best. I wish you hadn’t trusted Dumbledore so blindly, but you genuinely thought he knew best. And you really had no clue about what was happening at the Dursley’s.”

“Wouldn’t most of that apply to your friends as well?”

“Not really,” Harry said. “First off, they should treat me like a friend, which means they wouldn’t have kept secrets. No matter who gave the order. Second, while they may not have known _everything_, they certainly knew enough about my aunt and uncle to know that wasn’t the best place for me. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to forgive them for abandoning me like that.”

It was Remus’ turn to sigh. “Well, it’s your decision Harry, but you know life would be easier with friends.”

“Maybe I’ll just have to find new ones,” Harry said. “Better ones.” With that, Remus directed the conversation back towards the essay, but Harry could tell he was still concerned. The rest of the day passed without incident, and before Harry knew it, it was time for his occlumency lesson with Snape.

“Are you sure there is no one else that can teach me?” Harry begged Sirius and Remus for the 15th time in the same number of minutes.

“No Harry there is no one else to teach you,” Remus answered again, same as he had every other time Harry had asked.

“Just remember Harry, one misstep and I’ll be right in to kick his arse for you,” Sirius chimed in with a wink.

Harry smiled back at Sirius as Remus rolled his eyes. The good feeling didn’t last long however, as Harry heard footsteps ascend to his landing. The owner of the footsteps gave a curt knock on the door, which Remus opened. Professor Snape stood on the other side, looking as unpleasant as ever.

“Good evening Severus,” Remus said politely. “Thank you for agreeing to do this.”

“I didn’t have much of a choice in the matter,” Severus said. He looked from Remus, to Sirius, to Harry. “Well, Potter. Are you ready?”

“I don’t have much of a choice in the matter,” Harry retorted. Snape scowled and Sirius smirked.

“You will behave, or I will call these lessons off before they begin,” Snape growled.

Sirius opened his mouth to reply, but Remus cut him off, “Enough. Harry behave. Severus behave. Sirius, I think it’s time you and I leave.”

“You want me to leave my godson with this snake?” Sirius asked. “I don’t think so.”

“That is exactly what you will do,” Snape replied. “I imagine it will be difficult enough to teach Potter the subtle art of occlumency given his thick skull, but it will be near impossible with you there as a constant distraction.”

Sirius made a huff of protest, but before he could speak, Remus had pulled him from the room, with one last admonition of behave directed at its two occupants. Snape glanced around the room—Regulus’ room.

“Regulus was always annoyingly proper,” he finally said. “I suppose I shouldn’t have expected his room to be any different.”

“You knew Sirius’ brother?” asked Harry, looking around as well. Harry hadn’t taken much notice of his new living quarters. He had finally met Kreacher, who had given him a look of utter contempt. He didn’t feel it was worth it to snoop around.

“He was a year younger than I,” said Snape. “But he was in my house. The Blacks were a very prominent family then. It would have been impossible not to know him. Kept to himself most of the time, unlike his brother.” The last bit came out in a snarl. “But I am not here to discuss the Black family with you. I have been informed of your nightmares. Explain them to me yourself.”

“If you’ve already been told then why should I—” Harry began.

“Because I want to hear from you exactly what happened,” Snape cut him off. “I need to know exactly what we are dealing with.”

Harry looked away. “Most nights it’s just the cemetery.”

“The night of the final task?”

“Yeah,” Harry answered. “Most of the time it stays the same. I just see exactly what happened. Others,” he paused, “other times it’s even worse.”

“How so?” Snape was still standing by the door. He had not moved since Remus had closed it.

“Sometimes the bad parts take longer,” Harry said. “Like…like Cedric dying.”

“And the other evening, when you saw the Dark Lord. What happened then?”

Harry took a deep breath. “Well, it started off normal in the cemetery. One minute I was trying to get to Cedric and the next I was tied up in a dark room being interrogated by Voldemort.”

“And what happened next?”

“He was angry because the Order had moved me without his knowledge. He tortured me, or I guess whoever’s body I was occupying.”

“But you felt it?”

“Yes,” Harry said. “They next thing I remember was being woken up by Sirius.”

Snape was quiet for a moment while he studied Harry. “That is quiet unusual,” he finally said. “Normally if you were seeing into someone else’s head you would see what they see, not be someone else in the scene. The connection between you two must be abnormally strong.”

“So what do we do about it?”

“Well, that Potter,” Snape said with a sneer, “is exactly why I am here. I am going to attempt to teach you occlumency. At the very least, it should help you cleanse your mind enough to put an end to the nightmares, though it won’t be foolproof. And the best, you will be able to block the connection between your mind and the Dark Lord’s. If you can’t see into his mind, the chance of him discovering the connection between you is slim.”

“So how do we do this?” Harry asked. “Is there a spell or something.”

“Unfortunately it is not so easy Potter,” said Snape. “And even if it were, there would be no use teaching it to you now, as you can’t use magic outside of school. Unless of course you _want _to be expelled, in which case I assure you I would gladly be of assistance.” Harry glared at Snape. “No? Well then, what we will do for the time being is work on clearing your mind and guarding it.”

“That’s it? Why couldn’t Remus or Sirius do that?”

“It is not as simple as it sounds,” Snape insisted. “And besides, I don’t think Black could clear his mind if the fate of the wizarding world depending on it. It is as if shouting is his only setting. Once we return to school, I will attempt to penetrate your mind and you will attempt to repel me. However, seeing as that may prompt the use of magic, for the time being we will focus on the basics.”

“Okay then, so how do I clear my mind?”

Snape raised an eyebrow at Harry. “Surely you have some inkling. Or did the dementor attack damage your already low intelligence.” Harry scowled at him. “For Merlin’s sake Potter. Go sit on your bed, and get comfortable.”

“Excuse me?”

Snape sighed angrily. “The entire purpose of this is to help with your nightmares. I presume you don’t sleep sitting at your desk?”

Harry got up with a huff and sat cross-legged on his bed. “Okay, now what.” Snape finally moved away from the door and sat on the other end of the bed.

“Now close your eyes. Don’t look at me that way Potter. If I wanted to hurt you trust me I wouldn’t need you to close your eyes first.” Harry begrudgingly did as he was asked. “Now,” Snape instructed. “Take several deep breathes.” He was silent for a while as Harry obeyed. “Now keep that up. Focus on your breathing, and let go of all your other thoughts.”

Harry tried to do what Snape said. He really did, but all he couldn’t think about was his potions professor sitting not two feet away from him, and all he wanted to do is open his eyes. He didn’t trust Snape, not for a second.

“For Merlin’s sake Potter you’re not even trying.”

Harry’s eyes shot open. “I am! It’s not that easy.”

“Nor is it that difficult,” Snape insisted with a sneer. “Honestly I thought even you would be capable of something so basic.”

“I’ve got a lot on my mind okay.”

“That is precisely the point,” Snape said, standing up to tower over Harry. “Your mind is filled with all these negative things and in your sleep they come to the forefront. It makes you weak. It makes you vulnerable. You have to shut it all out.”

“Well I don’t know how to do that!” shouted Harry.

Snape opened his mouth to reply, but abruptly closed it. Harry wasn’t sure what was going on. Snape had a peculiar look on his face, and Harry realized after a moment that he wasn’t looking at his face, but at Harry’s arm. Harry looked down. He had raised his arms in anger and by doing so, the sleeve covering his scars had slipped down. He hastily covered them back up, but it was too late.

“What are those Potter?” Snape asked quietly. Harry had never heard Snape talk like that before, and frankly it disturbed him.

“Nothing.”

“It didn’t look like nothing.”

“Well it is.”

“So I suppose if I went ask Black about those scars he would tell me the same would he?”

Harry looked up sharply at his professor. “You…you wouldn’t,” he stammered.

Snape looked at him hard. “If it is necessary.” He sat back down on the bed and held out his hand. “Arm. Now.”

Harry weighed his options. He had purposely not told anyone about his scars. Now that he was surrounded by help, he felt ashamed to admit what he’d done. As much as he didn’t want to show Snape of all people, he wanted Sirius to know even less. He didn’t think he could take the disappointment if Sirius knew he had been hurting himself. He reluctantly handed Snape his arm.

Snape pushed up his sleeve and inspected the cuts. He traced a few with his fingers. Harry had to repress a shudder.

“How old are these?” Snape asked as quietly as before. He looked up at Harry with an expression that told Harry it was useless to try and fight.

“The two at the bottom are from a few days ago,” Harry said quietly, looking at his trousers. “I did them not long before the Order came to get me. The rest are from the past few weeks.”

Before Harry could say another word, much less move, Snape had pulled out his wand and was tracing Harry’s scars while murmuring under his breath.

“Hey what are you—” Harry began. He stopped when he saw the most recent scars start to fade. Even the older ones looked less prominent. Snape gave Harry his arm back, and Harry looked in wonder.

“Why did you do that?” he asked. Snape didn’t look at him right away.

Without turning from the wall he was staring at, he asked, “I have heard rumors since your rescue that your time at the Dursley’s was much worse than anyone realized. Was it truly that awful?”

“Obviously.”

Snape looked down at his hands, and then slowly he unbuttoned the sleeve on his right arm. After he had pulled it up to his elbow, he held out his forearm for Harry to see. Unsure of what was happening, Harry looked down at his professor’s arm, and was startled to see a collection of small, faded scars. Scars that Harry was all too familiar with. He looked at Professor Snape, who was watching him silently.

“When?” was all he asked.

“Around when I was your age,” Snape answered. “School was not pleasant for me. I assure you I was no more likable then than I am now. Your father and his friends also went through great pains to make my life a living hell.” Harry looked down at his own scars. He wasn’t sure what to say to that. “What did you use Harry?”

“What do you mean?”

“To make the cuts,” Snape asked. “What did you use?” Harry pulled the razor blade out of his pocket. “Let me see it.” Harry silently handed it over to Snape, who again pulled out his wand and murmured some spells.” Then he gave it back to Harry.

“What did you do?”

“I made it impervious to rust,” Snape answered. “I also put a special cleansing spell on it. You don’t want one of those cuts to get infected trust me.”

“So, you’re going to let me keep it?”

“If you’re determined to harm yourself, you would just find another way,” Snape said. “Trust me I know.” Harry put the blade back in his pocket. “Of course it would be preferable that you don’t do it at all. Do try to find other, safer, ways to relieve your pain.”

“Gee professor I didn’t know you cared too much.”

“Well if you are going to die I would much prefer to be the one to do it.”

Snape had delivered the line so deadpan, that Harry couldn’t help but laugh. And once he started, the insanity of the situation over took him, and he found he couldn’t stop. He laughed for what felt like hours, until tears started to come from his eyes. The entire time, Snape sat there motionless, but Harry thought he caught a small smile on his face.

When Harry composed himself once more, Snape spoke again, “I think we will call it a night. Practice what we discussed. Clear your mind. Send all those negative thoughts away. Tomorrow night you will get another dose of dreamless sleep to ensure you get a good night’s rest for the hearing. I will return the night after.”

Snape got up to leave. Right as he went to walk out the door, Harry said quietly, “Thank you professor.” Snape looked at him but didn’t respond. He gave Harry a short nod and left the room, closing the door behind him.

Harry silently dressed for bed, thinking about what had just happened. He had never thought of Snape as a real person before. Hell, he had never thought of any of his professors as real people. But Snape, Snape was always the bad guy. And yet, Harry found himself feeling rather close to the professor at the moment, and he wasn’t sure what to think about that.

He got into bed and tried to clear his thoughts as Snape had instructed, but there were so many new things to think about, that he couldn’t quite manage it before he drifted off.

_“Cedric! Cedric no! Don’t kill him please!”_

“Harry wake up!”

Once more, Harry awoke to Sirius shaking him awake. Harry jolted up, and tried to catch his breath.

“Are you alright Harry?” Sirius asked.

“No. Not really.”

“Can you tell me about it?”

“I don’t want to talk about it Sirius,” Harry begged. “Please don’t make me. Talk about something else. Anything else.”

Harry looked up at his godfather with pleading eyes. Sirius ran a hand through his hair and sat down on the bed next to Harry.

“Did anyone ever tell you how your dad made it on the quidditch team?” Harry shook his head no. “Okay, so this is what happened…”


	6. Back To School

Harry was alone when he awoke rather late the following morning. The last thing he remembered was Sirius telling him a funny story about his dad trying to get his mum’s attention. I must have dozed off, he thought, unable to remember how the story ended. Harry dressed himself and began to wander downstairs. He didn’t run into anyone, but heard voices coming from the study the others had spent the past few days cleaning out. Harry hesitantly knocked on the door and walked in. He saw Hermione and the Weasley’s on one side of the room, standing in front of a series of shelves and cabinets he assumed they were cleaning.

“Oh Harry good you’re awake,” Mrs. Weasley exclaimed, coming over to him. She surveyed his appearance. “Still looking a bit peaky I see. I’ll go grab some sandwiches and we can all have an early lunch.”

Before Harry could say a word, Mrs. Weasley had instructed everyone to keep working and swept out of the room. Harry was left awkwardly standing at the door staring at everyone. Not ones known to be shy, Fred and George took it upon themselves to break the silence.

“Wotcher Harry, come check out this stuff,” said George, gesturing at the shelves.

“Yeah mate, Sirius’ family was into some weird stuff,” Fred added.

Harry thought it over for a moment, and then realizing that his issues weren’t really with the twins, he walked over to where they were standing, resolutely ignoring Ron and Hermione. When he looked at the shelf, he didn’t think the items looked that bad, but the twins assured him it was otherwise.

“Ron got hit with some Wartcap power first thing this morning, mom had to heal him up before we could continue,” George said with a laugh while Fred mimed what Harry assumed was Ron’s reaction. “Half the things here don’t want to leave the shelves.”

“Of course we’ve been snagging anything with _possibilities_,” Fred said with a wink.

“Possibilities for what?” Harry asked. While they waited for Mrs. Weasley’s return, Fred and George told Harry all about the products they had been inventing for their joke shop. By the time Mrs. Weasley came back, Harry had all but forgotten the tension in the room thanks to the twins. After lunch, they went back to tackling the cabinets.

There was an unpleasant, silver instrument that tried to climb up Harry’s arm. There was a musical box that made a tinkling tune that made them all sleepy until Ginny thought to slam the lid shut. There were some ancient seals, a dusty box, and a snuffbox. There was also this heavy gold locket that none of them could open. Harry wasn’t sure what it was about it, but he didn’t like the feel of the thing. It was tossed into the trash pile, but Kreacher snuck in several times trying to steal objects to hide, and Harry could have sworn he saw the twinkling of gold as he scurried away once.

Harry passed the day away being amused by Fred and George and catching up with Ginny while they cleaned, first the drawing room and then a dining room. Any time Ron or Hermione tried to speak with him, or even so much as looked his way, he shot them with the nastiest glare he could muster. Eventually they got the message. That night, after trying on the formal robe Remus had picked up for him and giving it to Mrs. Weasley to take in just a smidge, Sirius gave him a dose of dreamless sleep so he would be well rested for his hearing the next day.

Harry was calmly woken by Mr. Weasley the following morning at half past five. He put on his new robes and met Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Sirius, Lupin, and Tonks downstairs in the kitchen.

“Wotcher Harry,” said Tonks with a yawn.

“How did you sleep?” asked Remus as Mrs. Weasley fixed him some breakfast.

“Great,” Harry said. “I wish I could take that every night.”

“Just practice your lessons with Professor Snape, and it will get better Harry,” Remus said. Sirius pulled out a seat as Mrs. Weasley placed a plate of food in front of him.

“Eat up Harry,” Mrs. Weasley. “You want your wits about you today.” She patted him on the shoulder as she walked off.

“Remember what we talked about Harry?” asked Sirius. 

“Let Dumbledore do the talking,” Harry said. “No matter how angry I am with him.”

“That’s right Harry,” Sirius said, with Remus and Arthur nodding alongside him. “We may be angry with him, but he knows the Ministry and the Wizengamot better than we do. In this situation, he really will know best.”

After breakfast, Harry reluctantly followed Mr. Weasley to work. He did enjoy watching Mr. Weasley navigate the underground and entering through the telephone booth that served as the visitors’ entrance. Having never been to the Ministry before, he tried to take everything in from the ceiling, to the fireplaces, to the fountain in the atrium. He listened quietly as Mr. Weasley spoke with his various coworkers, and before he knew it, it was time for his hearing.

Everything went pretty much exactly as Sirius and Remus had told him it would. The Wizengamot angered him and he tried to control his temper while explaining to them exactly what happened. Seeing Dumbledore angered him as well, especially considering the Headmaster wouldn’t even look at Harry. Although, Harry had to begrudgingly admit Sirius was right. Even with Dumbledore’s shaky standing at the moment, he had the Wizengamot in the palm of his hand, with the exception of one rather nasty toad-looking woman who Harry sensed had a deep hatred for him.

In the end, Harry was cleared of all charges, and Dumbledore swept from the room without as much as a glance in Harry’s direction. Harry quietly seethed as Mr. Weasley brought him back home. However, he didn’t have much time to dwell on it because once everyone discovered the good news Fred and George refused to stop singing, “He got off, he got off, he got off!” Harry had to run away to escape them, and, laughing, he stumbled into the study Sirius had retreated to.

“Hey there you are,” he said. Sirius looked up from his lap. Harry didn’t see anything here that would have caught Sirius’ attention. “You okay?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Sirius asked, attempting a smile. Harry could tell it was forced.

Harry raised his eyebrows. “I don’t know, but you certainly don’t look it.” Harry closed the door and sat in a chair near his godfather. “Look, Sirius, I know you’re supposed to be the parent and everything, but you can talk to me you know? I want to help.”

Sirius gave Harry a small, but genuine, smile. “You remind me so much of your father you know?” Harry smiled back at him. “It’s nothing really. Nothing to worry about. Just me being selfish.”

“About what?”

“Well,” Sirius sighed, “As much as I wanted you to be cleared, I secretly thought that if you were expelled you could stay here with me.” Harry looked down at his shoes. “Hey,” Sirius said lifting his head back up. “Don’t you go feeling bad. This is exactly what should have happened. Hogwarts is exactly where you belong.”

“I know,” sighed Harry. “And I want to go back, but if there was a way I could do both, you know?” Sirius looked thoughtful for a moment.

“Wait a minute,” he said suddenly. “Maybe there is. Wait here.” Before Harry could respond, Sirius was up and out of the room. He waited several minutes wondering what exactly his godfather had in mind before he returned holding a small object in his hand.

“Here,” he said thrusting it at Harry. Harry looked at the small square mirror Sirius had placed in his hands. “Your father and I used to use these all the times. Especially when we were in separate detentions.”

“What is it?” Harry asked.

“It’s a two-way mirror,” Sirius answered. “You have one, and I have the other. We can communicate with each other through them. Once you go back to Hogwarts, I’ll keep mine on me at all times. If you need me, just go ahead and say my name into the mirror. I won’t call you, in case you’re not alone, but you can call me anytime.”

Harry looked at the mirror speechless. Sirius had truly found a way for him to have both. He jumped up and gave his godfather a hug. Perhaps this year wouldn’t be so bad after all, he thought.

That night, Snape came back for his second lesson. He didn’t treat Harry any differently than he would have at school, which Harry actually appreciated. He was rather tired of everyone treating him like glass. However, Harry thought that just maybe Snape wasn’t as awful as normal. Harry tried as hard as he could to clear his mind before falling asleep. He dreamt of his cupboard that night. Still a nightmare for sure, but much better than the cemetery. Harry thought that perhaps he was improving.

***

The last week of the summer holidays passed in much the same manner. Fred, George, and Ginny kept Harry occupied when he was forced to be with the others. Remus and Sirius continued to help Harry with his school work, slowly getting out of him more and more of what had transpired at the Durselys’. Snape continued to give him Occlumency lessons every other night. Some nights Harry was moderately successful, others he still woke up screaming to Sirius shaking him. The days flew by quickly.

The booklists came in. Ron and Hermione were made prefects, to everyone’s surprise, and Mrs. Weasley took care of all the shopping for them. Harry was rather surprised to see some extra bags for him.

“Remus and Sirius requested I pick you up some clothes dear,” Mrs. Weasley explained. “Shirts and trousers and the like. I got you some nice neutral colors.”

Harry was both touched that they had thought to get these for him and relieved he hadn’t had to do it himself. He couldn’t imagine anything worse than picking out clothes. Finally, August 30th arrived, and Harry found himself carefully packing his trunk with his new clothes, completed homework, and his half of the mirror. He heard a knock on his door and looked up to see Sirius standing there.

“All packed?” Sirius asked,

“Yeah,” Harry answered quietly. He had noticed Sirius looking more and more glum as September 1st approached, even though Harry suspected he was trying to hide it. “Are you sure you’re going to be okay?”

Sirius gave Harry a small smile and a pat on the back. “I’ll be fine Harry,” he assured. “Don’t worry about me.” Sirius sat on Harry’s bed, picking up the photo of his parents Harry had forgotten to pack.

“I just don’t like the idea of you in this house mostly alone,” Harry said, sitting down next to his godfather. “I wish I could help.”

“Knowing your safe, really truly safe, will help,” Sirius said quietly. He looked around the room at the walls of his family home. “My family Harry, I don’t think I can put into words how awful it was. Being back here in this house just reminds me of it. Of being the odd man out. Of being the only one who realized what total bullshit this entire pureblood entitlement is. It left scars Harry. They may not be physical, visible ones, but they’re there.”

Harry looked down at his covered arm. He hadn’t cut himself since that night in Privet Drive. He wasn’t sure how to respond to Sirius. Before he could decide, Sirius continued.

“Your dad,” he began, “The Potters, they tried to undo those scars. They probably would have succeeded if…”

“If they hadn’t died? If you hadn’t gone to Azkaban?”

“Yeah. If that.” They were silent for a moment, contemplating the photograph.

“I’m sorry,” Harry eventually said.

“For what?” Sirius looked at him. “You didn’t do anything. If anyone owes anyone an apology Harry, I owe you one. By the sound of it, your relatives aren’t much of an improvement. I should never have left you there.”

Harry sighed. “I know, but you have so much on your plate Sirius. It was probably a relief to think Dumbledore had everything figured out. That I was safe and sound somewhere else.”

“It was,” Sirius said. “But that’s not an excuse. As your godfather, I should have never been satisfied with a situation where I hadn’t personally verified your safety.”

Harry laid his head on his godfather’s shoulders and wrapped his arms around him, he said, “What’s done is done Sirius. It sucked and it shouldn’t have happened, but it’s done. I forgive you.”

***

As Harry stared at the train, he came to the conclusion that he really should have thought of this sooner. Not speaking with his friends, he now faced the dilemma that he didn’t know who to sit with. As they were running rather late, there were really no empty carriages at this point. Ron and Hermione had left for the prefects’ carriage. Fred, George, and Ginny had all gone off in search of their friends, which left Harry all alone.

He walked until he found a compartment with only one lone occupant. It was a girl with straggly, waist length, dirty-blond hair, very pale eyebrows, and protuberant eyes that gave her a permanently surprised look. Her wand was stuck behind her left ear, she was wearing a necklace of butterbeer caps, and she was currently reading a magazine upside down. Well, Harry thought, at least he knew his ride would be interesting. He knocked on the glass and walked in.

“Mind if I join you?” He asked. “Everywhere else is full.”

“Not at all,” the girl said dreamily. “You’re Harry Potter.”

“I’m well aware thank you,” Harry retorted as he stowed his trunk. “And you are?”

“Luna Lovegood, fourth year, Ravenclaw,” she responded before adding, “_Wit beyond measure is man’s greatest treasure_,” in a singsong voice.

“Nice to meet you Luna,” Harry said as politely as he could manage. “What’s that you’ve got there?” He gestured to her magazine.

“Oh this is a Quibbler,” Luna answered. “My dad is the editor.” What followed was the strangest conversation Harry had ever had. He wasn’t sure about half the things coming out this girl’s mouth, or even if they were actual words. What even was a Wrackspurt, Harry thought. But she was so enthusiastic that Harry couldn’t help being cheered up and he continued to ask her questions. After a few minutes, he decided he quite liked this Luna girl. There was a knock on the carriage door and Harry looked up to see Neville.

“Hey Neville!” said Harry a bit more enthusiastically than he normally would have. Neville was in his year, and Harry thought he would be a more than suitable replacement for Ron and Hermione.

“Hey Harry!” Neville said, as enthusiastic, if not more, than Harry had greeted him. “Can I join you guys?”

“Of course!” Harry answered. He helped Neville get his luggage into the overhead carriage and then noticed for the first time the plant he was carrying. “What’s that?”

“Oh it was a gift,” Neville said. “It’s called Mimbulus mimbletonia. It’s really cool. Want me to show you?”

Harry knew that Neville was rather good and incredibly interested in herbology. Harry figured if he was going to be spending more time with Neville, he ought to make an effort to engage in his interests. But for the life of him he couldn’t see what was so interesting in this cactus-like plant. “Uhh, does it do anything?”

“Oh yeah loads of stuff,” Neville said. “Let’s see…” Neville proceeded to poke one of the sprouts with his wand and before Harry knew what was happening, the three of them were covered head to toe in stinksap. “Oh wow guys. I’m so sorry. I’ve never done that before.”

“It’s fine,” Harry said, wiping stinksap off of his face and thinking that it really wasn’t that fine at all. He looked up and noticed Cho starting at him from the hallway outside the carriages. She looked as though she was trying to stifle a laugh. She must have seen the whole thing, Harry thought. Cho smiled at him and gave him a small wave before walking off. Harry wasn’t sure how to feel. On the one hand, he rather liked her last year and would have liked for her to seem him in a much cooler light. But then, she did choose Cedric over him. Not that he could blame her. He would probably do the same, he thought.

_ Wait what?_ Before Harry had time to process what his own thoughts meant, none other than Draco Malfoy decided to pop by.

“Well, well,” drawled Malfoy. “Look who is just as icky as the papers claim.” Malfoy’s ever present henchmen guffawed behind him. “Didn’t see you in the prefect’s carriage. Tell me Potter, how does it feel being second-best to Weasley?”

“Bugger off Malfoy,” Harry spat as Luna cast a quick scourgify and cleaned the stinksap off everyone.

“Oooh, touched a nerve have I?” Malfoy sneered. “By the way, where are your doting fans anyway?”

Harry quickly tried to come up with a comeback, and remembered his previous train of thought. “Well, considering you’re the one standing at the door going on about my fame, I guess that makes you the doting fan doesn’t it Malfoy? What’ll it be then? An autograph? A photo? Or perhaps you want a kiss? You and the rest of the Slytherins were mightily concerned with Rita Skeeter’s reports on my love life last year.”

By the time Harry finished, Malfoy was a nice shade of red. Harry couldn’t tell if it was from anger or embarrassment, but it felt good knowing he had gotten to the blond.

“You…you better be careful Potter,” Draco stuttered out at last. “I have the power to hand out punishments this year. I’ll be watching you.”

“Oh yeah?” Harry said looking at Neville and Luna with a smirk. “That certainly sounds like an obsessed fan to me.”

“It does seem a bit much,” Luna said cheerfully.

If possible, the Slytherin turned an even darker shade of red. He gave Harry one last look of loathing before stalking off with his goonies. The minute he was out of earshot, the threesome burst out laughing.

“Bloody hell Harry that was brilliant!” Neville exclaimed through his laughter. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen Malfoy so flustered.”

“It does seem like he has a bit of a preoccupation with you doesn’t it?” Luna added.

The trio continued to laugh about the situation, and if Harry was a bit self-satisfied, he felt he had earned it. By the time the train arrived at Hogwarts, Harry felt he had made a new friend in Luna, and he was quite glad at the opportunity to get to know Neville better. He was starting to realize he had neglected a good friend all these years. Neville’s home life wasn’t the greatest. If anyone can relate to me, Neville can, thought Harry.

As they came upon the carriages, Harry looked up and stopped short. He did a double take, but the creatures were still there. Rather than pulling themselves as normal, he saw horse-like creatures that appeared completely fleshless harnessed to them. Their black coats clung to their skeletons. They had white pupil-less eyes and giant bat-like wings. Harry looked around in surprise, but no one else seemed to see anything out of the ordinary.

“It’s all right,” said a dreamy voice behind him he recognized as Luna. “I can see them too. You’re not going mad.”

“Really?”

“Oh yes,” she insisted. “I’ve seen them since first year. They’ve always pulled the carriages. You’re just as sane as I am.”

Harry had just enough time to think to himself that that wasn’t a very comforting idea, when Neville spoke up quietly.

“I can see them too Harry.”

“Really?”

“Really,” said Neville.

And that did make Harry feel better. Now somewhat reassured, Harry followed them into a carriage, and together, they headed off to the castle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading everyone! I want to let you know I really appreciate all the kudos, favorites, an comments! I may not have time to reply to them, but I do read them!


	7. The First Day Back

Harry and Neville said goodbye to Luna as they headed to the Gryffindor table. Harry noticed Ron and Hermione sit a few seats down from where he was, on the opposite side of the table so Harry was sure to see them. He quickly looked away as they glanced in his direction.

“Hey, Harry,” Neville said tentatively.

“Yeah Neville?”

“What’s up with you, Ron, and Hermione?” he asked.

Harry sighed. “It’s a long story,” he replied. “They basically ignored me and kept me out of the loop all summer because Dumbledore told them too.”

“Really?” Neville asked. “Why would Dumbledore tell them to do that?”

“Well he won’t speak with me so I don’t know,” Harry said. “But Ron and Hermione knew better. They also know how horrible my aunt and uncle’s house is and they left me there alone anyway.”

“That sucks Harry,” Neville said. “Maybe next summer you could stay with me and my Gram for a while? She isn’t the nicest either, but at least you won’t be alone.”

“Thanks Neville,” Harry said. “I appreciate the offer.” Harry thought about Neville’s offer. He felt bad that he had never consider asking Neville for help before. They had quite a bit in common really. As Harry thought about this, the spaces between him and Ron and Hermione began to fill up with his classmates, including Ginny and the twins.

“Hey did you guys see that Grubbly-plank woman?” asked Ginny. “She was getting the first years instead of Hagrid.”

“What!?” Harry exclaimed. “I didn’t notice that. I was distracted by the…” Harry trailed off, unwilling to mention the strange creatures, “by something else.” He turned to scan the staff table, but didn’t see Hagrid. “He’s not at the table either.”

“I hope he’s alright,” Hermione offered. Harry didn’t acknowledge her. He kept scanning the table and noticed a rather familiar toad-like face.

“Hey that woman was at my hearing!” Harry exclaimed.

“What?” asked both Ron and Hermione.

“Yeah!” Harry said. “I’d recognize that face anywhere. She was one of the ones who voted against me!” They all scanned the staff table up and down.

“No,” said Hermione suddenly. “It can’t be.”

“Can’t be what?” asked Harry, Ginny, and Ron all at the same time.

“There’s only one teaching position open,” Hermione answered. “And there is no one else at the table who could fill it.”

Harry looked back at the table and realized she was right. He opened his mouth to reply when he suddenly remembered he wasn’t meant to be speaking to Hermione and quickly shut it and looked away.

Luckily for Harry, it was time for the entire hall to quiet and welcome the incoming first years. The sorting hat gave them all a lovely warning about being friends, Dumbledore gave his opening speech, announcing the Grubbly-Plank was taking over Care of Magical Creatures and that the ministry woman—Umbridge—was indeed taking the defense position. What followed was a long-winded and rather boring speech by their new professor that Hermione later boiled down to “the ministry is interfering at Hogwarts.”

Harry took the opportunity to observe his fellow students who were also not paying attention to their new professor. He noticed Cho chatting animatedly with her friends. She glanced up at him and smiled, to which he smiled back. He wasn’t sure if it was out of politeness, simple friendship, or something more. He thought back to his earlier dilemma. Cho had picked Cedric over him. Then, Cedric had died. He remembered her appearing quite upset at not being able to go to the ball with him, but she certainly had seemed happy with Cedric. Where did that leave us, he thought. Then, he remembered his fleeting thoughts about Cedric and his confrontation with Malfoy. He glanced towards the Slytherin table where it was quite easy to find the blond holding court with his peers.

Had he really wanted to date Cho, he asked himself as he watched Malfoy gesture something to his friends. Or had he simply admired her quidditch skills and her natural charm? Harry thought to himself that she was rather pretty. Though as he glanced away from the blond, he thought of Cedric and remember that he wasn’t that bad looking either. He was jolted back to reality when everyone started getting up, obviously having been dismissed. What the hell am I even thinking, Harry asked himself.

He absentmindedly started walking towards the Gryffindor common room, but gradually started to notice how the other students were acting around him. Once he noticed it, he couldn’t un-notice all the pointing, staring, and whispering that followed him down the hallways. It was only then that he remembered the nasty things the Prophet had been saying about him for months. The last time the students had seen him, he had exited a maze clutching his dead classmate’s body and exclaiming that Voldemort was back.

He could understand their actions, but it didn’t make it easier to endure. The longer it went on, the jumpier it made Harry. The constant attention made him more and more uncomfortable until he was practically running for the common room, only to arrive and realize that he didn’t know the password. He stared at the Fat Lady in a mild panic, before he heard Neville’s voice calling to him.

“Harry! Harry!” Harry turned to look at him. “I know the password! And I’ll actually be able to remember for once!” he added cheerfully. He turned to the portrait and said, “Mimbulus mimbletonia!” The portrait swung open and Harry thanked Neville before trying to rush to the dorm room. He was stopped, however by Dean.

“Hey Harry,” said Dean. “How was your summer?”

“I’ve had better,” he replied. “Yours?”

“Alright,” Dean said. “My parents are muggles so they don’t really know what’s going on. It was much better than Seamus’.”

“Why, what happened Seamus?” asked Neville. Harry could feel the whole common room watching them. He wished this conversation could hurry up.

“Me mam didn’t want me to come back,” Seamus said tersely.

“What?” asked Harry, suddenly interested in the conversation. “Why not?”

“Well,” Seamus began, “because of you.”

Harry’s interest in the conversation immediately dwindled and his anxiety peaked back up again. He felt as though the air was getting harder to breath.

“Suppose she believes the Daily Prophet does she?” Harry finally said aloud, knowing the whole room was listening in.

“Well why shouldn’t she?” Seamus asked defensively. “It’s not like you’ve been that liberal with your side of the story. None of us know what happened that night with…with Cedric and all.”

“Well why don’t you just read the prophet like your mother then?” Harry spat back angrily. Seamus began to defend his mother, but Harry wasn’t sticking around to listen. He felt as if he stayed put for one more minute he might suffocate. He stalked off to his room as fast as he could and collapsed next to his bed as soon as the door slammed. He gasped and gasped, struggling to take in air. He jumped when he felt a hand on his back. He looked up to see Neville kneeling down on the floor next to him.

“Breathe,” Neville was saying. “Just take deep breaths. Focus on the in and out. This happens to me all the time. It will pass.” Harry followed Neville’s instructions and within a few minutes he sat back against his bed, his breathing once more under control. It was only then he noticed Ron standing by the closed door looking worried.

“I wanted to help,” Ron said quietly. “But I know you’re still mad, and I didn’t know what to do.” He looked down and fidgeted his hands. “Neville said he knew what to do,” he added.

“Are you okay Harry?” Neville asked.

Harry got up and moved to unpack his trunk for the sake of something to do. “Not really,” he finally said. “Watching a friend die changes you. And I know I shouldn’t care what other people think, but a guy can only take so much judgment in one day, you know.” Harry glanced up at Neville as he finished speaking. Neville looked as though he understood exactly what Harry meant.

“I get it Harry,” Neville said as he began to unpack his own trunk. “Not the watching a friend die part, but everything else. Everyone judges me.”

Harry thought about that and quickly realized Neville was right. He wondered how he hadn’t noticed the similarities between the two of them before.

“Can I help?” Ron asked quietly. Harry startled and turned towards him. He had forgotten Ron was here if he was being honest. Ron kept going once he realized he finally had Harry’s attention. “Look mate, I know how badly I messed up. So does Hermione. We’re both so, so sorry. We want to make it up to you. We want to go back to the way things were.”

Harry looked away, unsure how to respond. Then, he came across the two-way mirror and remembered what Remus’ words about life being easier with friends. He sighed and turned towards Ron.

“I’m not sure it will ever go back to the way it was,” he stated, and watched Ron’s face fall. “But if you and Hermione are serious about being sorry and making it up to me, I suppose I should give you a chance.” Ron looked up at him, a smile growing on his face. “So,” Harry paused, trying to figure out how to continue, “this is me agreeing not to continue to ignore you. But it does not mean things are back to normal.”

“Absolutely,” Ron said enthusiastically. “Whatever you want Harry. Whatever it takes. Hermione and I will make it all up. I promise.”

Harry nodded his head and got ready for bed. He was just in time, as Seamus and Dean walked in right after. Harry made sure to grab his mirror and shove it under his pillow as he got into his bed and shut the curtains. He put his wand next to his mirror and drifted off to sleep, completely forgetting to even try to clear his mind.

Next thing he knew he was in a long hallway. It was dark, with only a few sconces to light the walls. It was empty as well. It looked vaguely familiar to Harry as he began to walk down it towards a doorway. He had his wand in one hand and his other dragged along the wall. He heard a sound like footsteps in the distance and smoothly hid himself in an alcove. As he did so, Harry caught sight of himself in a reflection in the smooth marble wall. He saw those oh-so-familiar red, snake eye and realized—_he wasn’t him!_

Harry sprang up in his bed with a jolt, gasping for air. _No, it couldn’t be he thought. It couldn’t be Voldemort._ Quietly, so as not to wake his dorm mates, he grabbed his wand and his mirror, and made his way down to the common room. Once he was sure he was alone, he held up the mirror.

“Sirius!” Harry called, as loudly as he dared. “Sirius please answer! Sirius I know it’s late, but I need to talk to you.”

Harry could here indistinct shuffling and groaning from the other side. He heard something fall to the ground with a thud and the exasperated “shit” that followed. Finally, the rather tired looking face of his godfather appeared in the mirror.

“This better be good,” Sirius grumbled, wiping the sleep from his eyes. After doing so, he got a better look at Harry through the mirror, and Harry could tell he was immediately wide awake and at full attention. “Bloody hell Harry what’s wrong?”

“I don’t…I’m not sure Sirius,” Harry, said struggling to find words. “I think…remember when you guys said I might be seeing into Voldemort’s head?” Sirius nodded. “I think I did it again.”

“What did you see?” Sirius asked calmly. His soft tone helped to calm Harry down a bit.

“I was in a long, dark, hallway,” Harry answered. “No one was there. I was just walking. Then, I hid after hearing a noise, and that’s when I caught sight of my—_his_—reflection in the wall.”

Sirius had blanched as Harry spoke. “Harry wait here,” he said as Harry watched him get up and start to move. “I need to go do something, but I’ll be right back. Please just stay here.”

Before Harry could answer Sirius had placed the mirror down and Harry was stuck staring at the ceiling. He could hear Sirius rush out of the room. Not knowing what to do, and feeling less calm now that Sirius wasn’t there to ground him, he began pacing. He paced in silence for a few minutes before being startled by a voice.

“Everything okay?” Harry swirled around to see Ron standing on the dormitory stairs. He walked the rest of the way into the common room. “I woke up and saw you were gone. I wanted to make sure everything was alright. You don’t look alright.”

Harry took a deep breath before answering. “I had another dream. Vision. Whatever you want to call it. I needed to talk to Sirius, but when I told him what I saw and he ran off. He told me to wait.”

“What did you see?” Ron asked. Harry recounted his dream to Ron, who was just as baffled by its meaning as Harry himself was. By the time he had finished, he could hear footsteps through the mirror. A few seconds later Sirius’ face reappeared.

“Sorry about that Harry,” Sirius said. “Your dream had me worried someone from the Order was in danger. I had to sound the alarm and check on them.”

“Who was in danger?” Harry asked, Ron crowding in to look in the mirror too. “What does my dream mean?”

“What it means I don’t know Harry,” Sirius said with a sigh. “But as to your other questions, I’m afraid that’s Order business. No, no,” he interrupted seeing Harry about to protest, “I won’t budge on that. You have too much on your plate already. What I will ask, is that if you have more of these dreams, please tell me or one of your professors. The ones you can trust that is,” Sirius added.

“You’re really not going to tell me what’s going on?” Harry asked.

“No,” Sirius insisted. “And I know it’s a lot to ask for your confidence when I won’t give you all of mine, but remember I have to think like a parent Harry. And I think it’s best you don’t know right now.”

Harry sighed. He could tell by Sirius’ tone of voice he wasn’t going to budge. “Okay, fine. But I don’t like it.”

“Neither would I, in your situation,” Sirius admitted. “You also aren’t going to like what I have to say next. Unfortunately, this just proves the importance of your occlumency lessons with Snape. Keep doing your best to practice what he’s already taught you, and be on the lookout for a message instructing you of your next lesson. It’s imperative that we keep Voldemort out of your head Harry.”

“Yeah, yeah I know,” Harry said.

“I have to go now Harry,” Sirius said. “There are more things, and people, the Order needs to check in on now. But I’ll keep the mirror on me. Don’t hesitate to contact if you need me.”

“Thanks Sirius,” Harry said. And with that, his godfather was gone. He wasn’t quite ready to try to sleep yet, so Ron, eager to regain Harry’s good graces, challenged him to a game of wizard’s chess. By the time Harry had been thoroughly destroyed, he felt ready to give sleep another go. He took special care to clear his mind this time, and slept peacefully until morning.

The following morning saw the first day of classes. Harry coolly greeted Ron and Hermione, but went with Neville to breakfast. Angelina informed him of her ascension to quidditch captain and the upcoming tryouts on Friday. They received their schedules, and then both lamented on their unfortunate luck.

“Double history of magic, double potions, divination, AND double defense,” Neville exclaimed. “Are they trying to get us to quit or something?”

Harry had to agree with him, and then after hearing Fred and George explain the difficulty of O.W.L.s, Harry was starting to think he really would have been better off with Sirius. They begrudgingly grabbed their bags and heading off to Binn’s classroom.

“Hey Harry,” Neville began, waiting until Harry turned his way, “have you thought about what to do after school?”

“Not really,” Harry said. “But then again, I don’t really know what there is to do, being raised by muggles and all. I suppose being an Auror would be pretty cool.”

“Oh yeah Harry,” Neville said. “You would make a good Auror. And you’re smart enough too.” Neville looked down and quietly said, “I don’t think I’m smart enough to do anything.”

Harry stopped to look at his friend. Neville stopped too and looked at Harry bewildered. “That’s not true Neville. And you shouldn’t think like that. I bet there’s loads of things you could do if you wanted.”

Neville shook his head. “I don’t know. I’m bad a pretty much everything except herbology.”

Harry thought about that as he continued walking. Suddenly a thought struck him. “You know what Neville? I think you just need the right encouragement. Everyone’s always putting you down. This year, I’ll be there. I’ll help you with your other classes.”

“Really!?” Neville asked.

“Absolutely!” Harry responded. “I mean, I’m not genius like Hermione, but I’m still pretty decent in most classes. And besides, I’ll learn by helping you too.”

“Gee Harry thanks! I can help with herbology if you want?”

“Sure, Neville. That would be great.” With that settled, Harry and Neville continued on to history of magic, where Harry contemplated his promise while Professor Binn’s droned on for two hours. He started compiling a mental list of things they needed—an empty classroom for starters—and a list of spells they should begin with. By the time they started to make their way to potions, Harry was feeling rather excited at the idea of teaching Neville.

He was so wrapped up in his thoughts, that he didn’t see Cho until he had almost run into her.

“Oh, hey Cho,” Harry sputtered out. “I’m so sorry. I wasn’t paying attention.” At least I’m not covered in stinksap this time, he thought.

Cho obviously thought the same thing, as after she had assured him it was fine, she added, “So you got that stuff off huh?”

“Yeah,” Harry said with a laugh. He playfully shoved Neville. “But this guy isn’t allowed to bring anymore plants near me.” Cho laughed and Harry thought again that she was rather pretty, but he just wasn’t sure he felt the same about her as he did last year.

“How was your summer?” Cho asked, interrupting his musings.

“Uhh,” Harry paused, unsure of how to answer that. As he thought about it, his gaze wondered to behind Cho, where a very familiar blond Slytherin was attempting to covertly stare at them with a thinly veiled layer of contempt. Seeing he’d been caught, Malfoy turned away with a blush. Harry didn’t know what it meant, but he decided to milk the moment for what it was worth. “Oh, you know, really boring,” he said. “My relatives are ridiculous, and I didn’t really do much. It’s much better being back here at Hogwarts. The company is a drastic improvement,” he added with a smile.

Cho beamed, clearly assuming Harry was referring to her with his last comment. Behind her, he saw Draco scowl and storm off in the direction of potions. This reminded Harry that it was best he and Neville not be late, so he said his goodbyes to Cho and they hurried off to their next class.

Snape of course, gave them an incredibly difficult potion to brew on the first day back. Something about “preparing them for their OWLs.” Harry, for one, couldn’t wait to not have to take potions anymore. As he went about making his potion, he saw Malfoy out of the corner of his eye. He wondered why the Slytherin had acted the way he did. Was he still angry about what Harry had said on the train? Or was he angry that Harry was talking with Cho? He wasn’t sure, and before he could get any closer to figuring it out, he was interrupted by a gruff voice.

“Perhaps Potter,” Snape drawled, “if you weren’t so busy day dreaming, you might be capable of brewing a half-decent potion.” Harry looked down at his potion and noticed it was emitting a rather dark gray cloud, rather than a thin silver mist as it should have been. “Tell me Potter, can you read?”

Harry could see Malfoy and the other Slytherins giggling behind Snape. “Yes Professor.”

“Oh really?” Snape asked with a smirk. “Then, please read to me the third line on the board.” Harry read it out loud, realizing as he did so he had forgotten to add one of the ingredients. “And did you do all of those steps?” Snape asked condescendingly.

“No sir,” Harry responded.

“No?” Snape asked. “Then I suppose this is useless then.” With that, Snape waved his wand and Harry’s potion vanished. “Zero points today.”

Harry stalked out of the classroom after they were dismissed. He was as angry as he had been when he arrived at Grimmauld Place. How dare Snape do that to him? He was used to harsh treatment from his potions professor, but he had really thought they had grown closer over the summer. When he remembered how he had confided in Snape about his scars, his anger turned inward at his own stupidity. He resolved to confront Snape at their next lesson.

In the meantime, he had a few minutes before divination, and he knew how to relieve some of emotions currently filling his head. He felt in his pocket for the razor he still carried everywhere, and headed off to the nearest toilet.


	8. Friends and Enemies

Harry just barely made it to divination on time. He hurriedly climbed up the ladder into the attic-like room and was relieved to see Neville had saved him a seat. He sat down right as Trelawney entered the smoky room and announced they would be studying dreams this term.

Harry hoped no one had noticed his panicked expression before he masked it. If there was anything he did not want to discuss with his classmates it was his dreams. Trelawney instructed them to pair off and begin recounting dreams. Neville turned to look at him.

“Do you want to go first?” he asked.

“No,” Harry said quickly. “I never remember by dreams,” he added. “You go.” Neville proceeded to spend the next 20 minutes recounting a dream about a large pair of scissors wearing his grandmother’s hat. The two studiously spent the remainder of the class trying to decipher it, and by the end of the period were no closer at figuring out its meaning than Harry was at convincing the wizarding world Voldemort had returned.

“It’s a good thing Trelawney isn’t mean,” said Neville, as he Ron and Harry walked to defense. “Because I think I might be worse at divination than I am at potions. And that’s saying a lot.”

“I completely understand,” Harry agreed. “At least potions is just mixing ingredients. When Snape isn’t bothering me it’s pretty smooth, but divination goes completely over my head. Do you think anyone actually makes sense of all that crap?”

“I don’t see how,” Ron said. “And why does it even matter? I’m scared of spiders, so if I dream of spiders and I get scared, does it have to have some special meaning other than I’m scared of spiders!?” Harry and Neville laughed at Ron’s distress.

“What’s so funny?” asked Hermione, meeting up with them outside of their defense classroom.

“Apparently Ron’s afraid of spiders,” Harry said with a laugh. Hermione rolled her eyes and they all made their way into the classroom. “Have you guys heard anything about our new professor?” she asked in a whisper, glancing around the room.

“Haven’t had a chance have we?” Harry asked. They all sat down and anxiously waited for the class to begin. Unlike in previous years, the room was completely bare of anything course related. At the very minute class was supposed to begin, Umbridge walked in, completely decked out in pink, ugly bow and all.

“Good afternoon class,” she said in her sickly-sweet voice as she walked to the front. A few students mumbled a good afternoon back at her. “Oh, now that won’t do at all. You should all say ‘good afternoon Professor.’ Let’s try again: good afternoon class.”

“Good afternoon professor,” chorused the class.

“Good good,” she said with a smile that made Harry shudder. Umbridge waved her wand and the words “Ordinary Wizarding Levels” appeared on the chalkboard. “Ordinary Wizarding Levels,” she said. “Otherwise known as O.W.L.s. These very important tests will be administered to you at the end of the year to determine your proficiency in each subject. Your results will not only determine what classes you can take for the remainder of your schooling, but, more importantly, what careers you can go into. Now, wands away and quills out, please.”

The class all exchanged confused looks. Why would they need to put their wands away in defense? They all reluctantly put away their wands and pulled out some parchment, ink, and quills. Umbridge waved her wand again and the words on the board were replaced with “Defense Against the Dark Arts: A Return to Basic Principles.” She then proceeded to explain that their lack of structured and non-ministry-approved curriculum had left them unprepared for their O.W.L. exams. They were then instructed to open their books and read chapter one: “Basics for Beginners.”

Harry had always enjoyed the idea of defense, even when they did not have a particularly good teacher, but he thought reading about it, and at a most basic level at that, was possibly even more boring than Binn’s class. Well, maybe that was going too far, but it was certainly dull. He soon realized he had reread the same paragraph five times and not comprehended a single word. All of a sudden, he looked up and noticed Hermione had not even opened her book. Rather she was staring at Professor Umbridge with her hand in the air. Soon, the entire class was watching Hermione rather than read the chapter, as the former was much more interesting. Eventually, Umbridge had no choice but to acknowledge her.

“Is there a problem Miss—?” Umbridge asked.

“Hermione Granger,” answered Hermione. “I had a question about your course aims.” Harry looked over to the board where Umbridge magicked course aims for them to copy. They read:

  1. Understanding the principles underlying defensive magic.
  2. Learning to recognize situations in which defensive magic can legally be used.
  3. Placing the use of defensive magic in a context for practical use.

“A question about the course aims?” Umbridge asked. “I think the course aims are perfectly clear Miss Granger.”

“Well, I don’t” said Hermione. “There’s nothing there about using defensive spells.”

“_Using _defensive spells,” Umbridge asked incredulously. “Why on earth would you have to use defensive spells in my class?”

What followed was nearly a rebellion. Students kept asking questions, himself included, which Umbridge kept shooting down. Harry felt she was rather a bit extra harsh when he spoke. Finally, Harry couldn’t contain himself. The entire day had been rather frustrating and he was done being bullied.

“So how exactly are we going to pass our O.W.L.s if we’ve never practiced the spells?” Harry asked harshly.

“Hand Mr. Potter,” Umbridge snarled. “If you have properly studied the theory the spells should come naturally to you. If not, perhaps defense isn’t for you.” She said that last bit with a rather smug grin towards Harry.

“Well, I think my life experience would prove otherwise,” Harry shot back. No one else had questions anymore. They wanted to see what would happen next.

“Is that so?” Umbridge asked. “You think you know better than a ministry official?”

“Yeah, well considering I’ve defeated Voldemort four times now I would say I’m pretty good at Defense Against the Dark Arts,” Harry countered. “I certainly did a good job defeating him at the end of last term when he came back.”

“Detention Mr. Potter,” Umbridge said with a triumphant smirk, as though she had won a great battle. “Now,” she addressed the class, “let me make something clear. Certain individuals,” she glared at Harry, “have insisted that a certain dark wizard as returned. This. Is. A. Lie.”

“It’s not a lie!” Harry shouted, jumping up as he did so. His chair flipped backwards with the force of his movement. “I saw him! I fought him!” Harry could see the alarmed faces of his classmates. Hermione was shaking her head at him and motioning him to be quiet, but he was past that now.

“You are a liar Mr. Potter,” Umbridge said calmly.

“Oh yeah,” Harry asked. “So Cedric…,” Harry choked on the name for a moment before recovering, “So Cedric Diggory dropped dead of his own accord did he?” Tears welled up in his eyes and he tried to quickly blink them away. He didn’t want to appear weak.

“Cedric Diggory’s death was a tragic accident…”

“IT WAS MURDER!” Harry shouted. “He was murdered by Voldemort and if you stopped to consider the facts you would realize they don’t add up to any other conclusion.”

Umbridge considered Harry for a moment. Then, she turned to the rest of the class. “You have all been distracted enough,” she said. “Go back to your reading. You will have a quiz on this chapter at your next class, so I suggest you read it carefully.” She turned back to Harry. “Mr. Potter, come to my desk.” Harry followed her as she turned and walked to her desk. Harry stood their seething while Umbridge took her time writing out a note before giving it to Harry. “Bring this to Professor McGonagall,” she said sweetly.

Harry knew if he stayed here any longer he would get into even more trouble, so he angrily snatched the note and his belongings and stormed out of the classroom. He had to deflect Peeves on his way to his Head of Houses’ office. By the time he arrived he was angrier than ever and it was reflected in the way he banged heavily on the Deputy Headmistress’ door.

“What in Godric’s name is going on?” McGonagall exclaimed as she threw open her door to come face to face with Harry. “Potter what is the meaning of this?”

“I’ve been sent to you,” Harry replied angrily, holding up the scroll from Umbridge.

“Sent to me?” she asked.

“Umbridge didn’t like my critiques of her teaching methods,” he said tersely.

McGonagall sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Come on in Potter,” she said, grabbing the scroll from his hand. She read it as they walked to her desk. She quickly made and poured two cups of tea as Harry sat and placed one in front of him. He ignored it. He wasn’t in mood for tea.

“Have a biscuit Potter,” she said pushing a tray towards him.

“I don’t want one,” he said.

“Have a biscuit,” she insisted again.

“I don’t want a stupid biscuit!” he almost shouted at her. She looked at him sharply at his tone, but Harry was too angry to cower as he usually would. Lucky for him, she chose to move on instead of confronting him.

“It says here you’ve been given detention every night this week for your insubordination and class disruption.”

“What!?” Harry exclaimed. “Every day this week? That’s ridiculous! Isn’t there something you can do?”

“Professor Umbridge is your teacher Harry,” McGonagall said. “She has every right to give you detention.”

“But she was wrong!” Harry said. “She won’t let us use magic and she called me a liar and…”

“Potter! Calm yourself.” Harry clamped his mouth shut and waited for his professor to continue. “I know that you are not a liar. The people who matter know you are not a liar. But the fact of the matter is that the Ministry of Magic does not and Umbridge works for the Minister. It would be wise not to anger her like you have done today.” Harry tried to protest, but he was cut off. “I know it may be frustrating, but you need to listen to me Potter. It will be better for everyone if you try to stay off of Umbridge’s radar.” Harry turned away and sulkily stared out the window. “Now, you will report to her office for detention tomorrow evening and every other day this week.”

Harry scowled. “Whatever.” McGonagall raised her eyebrow at him.

“I think I have tolerated enough of your attitude Mr. Potter,” she said. “If you have no more questions or outrageous outbursts you may head to dinner.”

Harry didn’t need telling twice. He snatched up his things and stalked to the Great Hall for dinner. The tale of his outburst had obviously spread, and apparently the students were not afraid to let him overhear.

“He’ says he fought Voldemort…”

“Who’s he kidding…”

Harry sped up so that he didn’t have to listen to the conversations floating past him. When he finally reached the table, his friends took one look at his face and wisely left him alone. But the conversations didn’t stop. He could hear what seemed like everyone in the hall discussing his claims. Some appeared supportive, but most followed the example of The Daily Prophet. The more he heard, the harder it got to breath. He started to feel like the walls of the room were closing in on him. The words started to blend into a loud buzzing noise that only served to make him more anxious. Finally, he couldn’t take it anymore and grabbed his things and all but ran from the room.

He was sure it would only make people talk more, but he couldn’t find it in him to care at the moment. As he exited the Hall, he realized that going to Gryffindor tower would only mean he would be interrupted by his fellow classmates. He quickly ducked into a corner and pulled out the Marauder’s Map he carried with him everywhere. He saw the astronomy tower was empty, and went there as fast as he could. The buzzing was getting louder and his breathing shallower.

Somehow, he found it in him to run up the stairs and the moment he reached the top, he collapsed into the center of the room. By some luck, he remembered Neville’s advice from the previous night, and tried to focus on breathing. Tears were streaming down his face. After several minutes, he felt he had his breathing under control and the buzz had dulled down.

Once his mind was cleared of buzzing, all the negativity from his first day of classes hit him at once, and he couldn’t stop himself from breaking down. Harry knelt on the floor and curled into himself while he sobbed. He let out all the anger and frustration from the day. Right as he took a moment to hope no one was around to see or hear him like this, he heard possibly the worst voice imaginable from behind him.

“Well, well, well,” drawled Malfoy as he climbed the last few steps into the tower. “What do we have we here? Does the golden boy need a tissue? Or maybe he needs his mummy? Do…”

Malfoy was cut off midsentence as Harry had sprung up at the mention of his mother and slammed him against the wall. Harry’s fists had handfuls of Malfoy’s robes and their faces were barely an inch apart. Even stained as it was with tears, Malfoy could see the pure rage on Harry’s face.

“Don’t. You. Dare,” Harry snarled. “Never speak of my mother.” With that Harry let go of the blond and staggered backward. The anger he had felt just moments ago drained away as he finally felt the weight of the day’s events. Harry continued walking backwards, barely seeming to see Malfoy, until he hit the opposite wall and crumpled to the floor.

“I’m not in the mood for your shit Malfoy,” Harry said quietly. “So unless you plan on giving me detention for having a shit day, I suggest you elsewhere.” Harry turned his head away from the Slytherin and looked at what bit of sky he could see through the tower windows.

He honestly couldn’t bring himself to care what Malfoy did. He was sure he would be angry with himself later for appearing so weak to his enemy, but at the moment, nothing mattered. After a minute or two, Harry glanced towards the opposite wall and noticed Malfoy was still standing there. For once, he wasn’t mocking, smirking, or being an all-around nuisance. He was just quietly staring at Harry and it unnerved him that he couldn’t quite decipher the look on Malfoy’s face.

“Can I help you with something?” Harry asked, unsure of what else to say. Malfoy opened his mouth and closed it several times without saying anything. “What? Cat got your tongue?”

“Well, I’m not exactly sure what one is supposed to say to their enemy in a time like this,” Malfoy said finally.

Harry huffed a laugh he didn’t truly feel. “I would imagine you should make fun of them. But as I’ve already asked you to give it a rest, I suppose you are at a crossroads.” Harry gave him a tired smile. “Guess you should, you know, leave.”

Malfoy looked down at his fidgeting hands before replying. “If…if you were my friend,” he hesitated for a moment before continuing, “I wouldn’t feel comfortable leaving you like this.”

Harry looked up at him surprised. Malfoy looked away as soon as they made eye contact. Harry wasn’t sure how to respond by that, so he just went with the obvious: “But we aren’t friends, so…?”

Malfoy looked back at Harry and said, “No. No we’re not.” Then, he quietly sat down with his back against the wall so he was sitting directly across from Harry. The two stared at each other in silence.

“I always figured you liked the attention,” Malfoy said after what felt like an eternity. “I guess it’s different now that most everyone hates you.”

“I’ve never liked the attention,” Harry replied. “If I had to choose between being famous because my parents died and I didn’t and having my parents, I’d rather have the latter.” Harry absentmindedly rubbed his arm where his scars were. “It’s not as if I go looking for trouble either. It just tends to find me.”

Malfoy offered a small laugh. “That’s one way of putting it.” That sat in what was surprisingly a comfortable silence for a few minutes. “I heard you told off Umbridge. Nice work.” Harry looked at the blond in surprise. “I mean, I know technically she’s on the same side as I am, but Merlin’s beard she irritates me.” Harry couldn’t help but laugh out loud at that.

“You’d be mad if she didn’t,” he said. “She’s so sickly sweet all the time it makes me want to vomit.”

Malfoy made a disgusted face. “I’ve seen her a few times around the ministry,” he said. “Apparently, her entire wardrobe is various, equally disgusting, pink robes. Just looking at her can give you a headache.”

“Tell me about it,” Harry replied. “I wonder what her office looks like.”

“I suppose you’ll find out soon enough,” Malfoy replied. “Heard she gave you detention?”

“Yeah,” Harry said miserably. “A whole week’s worth.”

“Seriously?”

“Guess I really pissed her off,” Harry said glumly.

“You’ll have to tell me what it looks like,” Malfoy said.

Harry was about to say that he would, when he suddenly remember who he was talking to, and the unlikely event of it ever happening again. Malfoy seemed to realize this at the same time Harry did, and Harry was certain he saw a brief glimpse of sadness cross the blonde’s face. They were both quiet for a moment, before Malfoy broke it by getting to his feet.

“Well…um…you seem to be alright now,” Malfoy stuttered out. “I’ll just go now.” He turned, but then turned back and opened his mouth as if he wanted to say something else, before closing it and leaving the tower without another word.

Harry stared at the doorway long after the blond had left it, trying to figure out what in the bloody hell had just happened. Had he really had a civil conversation with Draco Malfoy of all people? Harry wiped his face to clear off any remnants of the tears, got up, and dusted himself off. He continued to ponder their interaction as he made his way down the tower and towards his common room.

Malfoy had told him he wouldn’t leave a friend alone before sitting down. But he also stated he weren’t friends, Harry thought. Enemies wouldn’t be that kind to each other. But if they weren’t friends, and they weren’t acting like enemies, what exactly were they?

Harry was so wrapped up in his thoughts that he didn’t even register walking through the common room into his dorm. He knew he should get to work on his homework, but he felt so drained, that he thought it best he save it for the following day. As he got ready for bed, he noticed a note on his bedside table with his name scrawled on it.

Harry recognized the handwriting immediately. Just great, he thought. What does Snape want now? He snatched up the note and quickly unfolded it to see:

_I was going to schedule your first occlumency lesson for tomorrow, but seeing as you can’t go one day without landing yourself in detention, it will have to wait until Saturday. Meet me in the potions classroom at 8pm sharp. If anyone asks, inform them you are taking remedial potions. No one familiar with your skills will doubt it. I expect you to practice clearing your mind as we discussed. I will know if you haven’t._

_Professor Snape_

Harry crumpled up the note and use his wand tip to light it on fire. Perfect, he thought. A week’s worth of detention with Umbridge followed by an extra lesson with Snape. Harry sighed as he climbed into bed and shut his curtains. He went ahead and tried to clear his mind, but for all his efforts, he was still thinking about a certain blond when he finally drifted off.


	9. Lies and Truths

The following day saw double charms AND double transfiguration. And. Even. More. Homework. Between the amount of work piling up and the way every professor kept drilling in the importance of their O.W.L.s, Harry was growing more overwhelmed by the minute.

Not having had the energy to complete any homework the previous night, Harry elected to skip lunch to try and catch up. Neville and Ron decided to join him. Neville was desperate for any help he could get, and when Harry asked Ron why he hadn’t gotten started the night before, he received an evasive answer. His stack of homework was too high for him to worry about whatever Ron was hiding from him, so Harry let it go.

“It appears we’ll have to wait a week or two to begin your lessons Neville,” Harry remarked while they researched for their potions essay. “With detention every day this week, who knows how long it will take me to catch up on all this work.”

“It’s no problem Harry,” Neville said. “Just you and Ron being here to help me means a lot.”

“What’s this about lessons?” Ron asked.

“Harry offered to help tutor me this year,” Neville answered.

“Really?” Ron asked, perking up. “Mind if I join? I’m not exactly top of the class myself.”

Harry thought about it for a moment. It surely wouldn’t hurt anything to have Ron join them. “Sure mate,” Harry said finally. “But like I said, it may be a week or two.”

“Works for me,” Ron said.

The three packed up their belongings and headed down to the edge of the forest for their first Care of Magical Creatures class. Professor Grubbly-Plank was waiting for them next to what looked like a pile of twigs.

“Good afternoon everyone,” Grubbly-Plank said after the entire class had assembled. She pointed to the pile of twigs. “Can anyone tell me what these are?”

Hermione’s hand shot up. Behind her, Malfoy began impersonating her by pretending to jump up and down with his hand in the air. His cronies barely tried hiding their laughter, but Grubbly-Plank didn’t seem to notice anything. Harry did though. Harry noticed. Anger boiled in him. The previous evening had painted Malfoy in a much better light than Harry had ever seen him before. And in his dreams, there had been a distant blond figure Harry could never quite reach. At that moment, Harry and Malfoy made eye contact and Harry narrowed his eyes at the Slytherin. Harry couldn’t be sure, but he thought he saw a blush start to appear on the blonde’s cheeks before he turned away.

When Harry turned back towards the front, Hermione was announcing that the twigs were in fact bowtruckles. Grubbly-Plank awarded her five points and explained to the class exactly what bowtruckles were and assigned them the task of examining them closely and sketching them. As they split up into groups, Harry tried to get some answers from their replacement professor.

“Where’s Hagrid?” he asked Grubbly-Plank as she walked by.

“Never you mind,” she said dismissively and moved to the next table.

“Maybe the stupid oaf’s finally gone and got himself injured,” piped up a familiar voice. Harry turned and came face-to-face with Malfoy.

“Yeah?” Harry asked. “Well maybe you will too if you’re not careful.”

“Maybe he’s been messing with stuff that’s too _big_ for him, if you get my drift.” With that, Malfoy walked away to his table smirking. Harry was shaking with anger. He didn’t understand why Malfoy was acting the way he was. It was certainly normal behavior for the Slytherin, but the previous evening was not. Harry wasn’t sure what to think, so he chose to focus on the larger problem: Hagrid. He turned to the others and quickly whispered what Malfoy had told him.

“Dumbledore would know if something had happened to Hagrid,” said Hermione at once. “Don’t let Malfoy get into your head.”

‘Well just because Dumbledore knows something doesn’t mean he is willing to share,” Harry said bitterly. “Or do anything about it.” Before Hermione could respond, they heard Malfoy speaking loudly behind them.

“Well according to father, the Ministry is really determined to crack down on substandard teaching at Hogwarts,” Malfoy drawled. “So even if the overgrown moron is brave enough to show his face again, he’ll probably just be sent packing.”

“OUCH!” Harry had gripped the bowtruckle too hard. It had retaliated by swiping at his hand. Malfoy’s cronies, who were already laughing at his comments about Hagrid, nearly keeled over at the sight of Harry’s bloodstained hand and his bowtruckle making a run for the woods. Harry glared at Malfoy and was about to say something when he was interrupted by Hermione.

“Don’t go picking a row with Malfoy Harry,” she warned. “He’s a prefect now. He can make life difficult for you.”

“Oh wow I wonder what that would be like?” said Harry sarcastically. With that, they packed up their things and headed to the greenhouses for their herbology class. As they approached, a group of fourth years exited, including Ginny who greeted them as she passed. Not long after, Luna Lovegood emerged. She made a beeline for Harry when she saw him. Several classmates turned curiously to watch.

“Hello Harry.”

“Hey Luna,” Harry said.

“I believe He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is back, and I believe you fought him and escaped from him,” she responded without any preamble.

Harry couldn’t help but laugh. “Thanks Luna.” She was wearing what appeared to be orange radishes for earrings, which Parvati and Lavender were giggling about. Luna wrongly assumed they were laughing at her statement and confronted them about their disbelief. After Hermione shot Luna’s ridiculous claims down, she stalked off.

“Do you think you could try not to offend the people who believe me?” Harry asked.

“Oh you can do better than her Harry,” Hermione said. “Apparently…”

“Apparently nothing Hermione,” Harry retorted. “I happen to like Luna and I am happy to have her on my side.” They all made to go to class, but were approached by Ernie Macmillan before they could take more than a few steps.

“I just want you to know Potter,” he said in a loud, carrying voice, “that it’s not only weirdos who support you. I personally believe you one hundred percent. My family have always stood firm behind Dumbledore, and so do I.”

“Um,” Harry stuttered. “Thanks Ernie.” Ernie’s words had wiped the smile from Lavender’s face and even Seamus looked confused. “I really appreciate it. But just so you know, I also appreciate Luna’s support, and I would appreciate it even more if people didn’t make fun of my friends.”

Ernie looked taken aback for a moment, but then smiled at Harry. “A man who sticks up for his friends. That just solidifies my belief in you.” With that, he turned and walked away, leaving Harry feeling better than he had in days.

The feeling lasted all through herbology, as, for one, Neville was able to help them. Out of all of his classes at the moment, Harry felt the most secure in herbology. However, Harry’s good mood didn’t last long after class let out, as before he knew it, dinner was over and it was time for his first detention with Umbridge. It didn’t help that he got an earful from Angelina about missing tryouts that coming Friday. He glumly made his way to Umbridge’s office.

He knocked on her door, and her sugary voice beckoned him to enter. He tried to mask his shock as he made his way in. The room was unrecognizable from the last time Harry was there. He actually had to wipe his eyes to be sure he wasn’t hallucinating. The room was decked out in lace, various shades of pink, and an entire wall of ornamental plates displaying technicolor kittens. He was so absorbed in the nightmare that was the room, he was startled when Umbridge greeted him. She instructed him to sit at a small table near her desk.

“So, what will I be doing?” Harry asked cautiously.

“Lines,” she answered sweetly.

“Lines?”

“Yes, Mr. Potter,” she replied. “Lines. This is going to be your punishment for spreading evil, nasty, attention-seeking stories.”

It took everything Harry had to restrain himself at her words. With great effort, he dropped his belongings to the floor and sat down.

“There, there,” she said sweetly. “We’re getting better already.” Harry moved to get his quill out, eager to get this ordeal over with. “No, no. Not with your quill,” Umbridge added. “You’ll be using my special quill.” She handed him a long, thin black quill with an unusually sharp point. “I want you to write ‘_I must not tell lies_.”

Harry gritted his teeth. “How many times?”

“Oh, as long as it takes for the message to _sink in_.”

“You haven’t given me any ink.”

“You won’t need any,” she said, with the smallest hint of a laugh in her voice.

Harry turned to his parchment and wrote out his first line. Then, he let out a gasp of pain as the words appeared on the parchment in bright red ink, at the same time that they appeared on the back of his hand. As he watched the skin healed over again and the words disappeared. He could feel Umbridge watching him and refused to give her the satisfaction of knowing she had gotten to him. So he gritted his teeth again and kept writing. After what seemed like hours of enduring the pain of those words being etched into his hand again and again, she finally examined it, and allowed him to leave.

He held his head high as he left the room, but once he was out of sight he gingerly cradled his hand and examined the damage. You couldn’t quite see the words, but it was clear something was wrong. He didn’t want to go to the common room right away and risk anyone seeing, so he went to the only place he could think of: the astronomy tower. Imagine his surprise when he walked in to find none other than Draco Malfoy already there.

Harry quickly hid his hand in his robes, and the two stood staring at each other for several moments before saying at the exact same time, “What are _you_ doing here?” They stared at each other in silence for a moment, each considering the best way to respond. Malfoy finally broke the silence.

“You’re not the only one who occasionally needs a place to think,” Malfoy spat out. “This tower is the best place in the school to be alone.”

“Yeah, well why do you think I came here?” Harry spat back. “Seeing as you’ve had your time, why don’t you scamper off and let me have some peace.”

“Not a chance Potter,” Malfoy said. “You don’t own this space.” They stared at each other for several minutes. Neither willing to budge.

“Why were you such an ass earlier?” Harry finally asked.

“In case the past four years haven’t given you a clue it’s kind of our thing,” Malfoy answered.

“It wasn’t our thing last night,” Harry responded.

Malfoy hesitated for a moment. “Last night was different,” he said quietly. “And it was a one-time deal.” He looked out the window away from Harry. “It won’t happen again.”

This made Harry unreasonably angry, though he wasn’t sure why. “Works for me,” he said out loud, unwilling to admit it didn’t work for him at all. After a few more beats of silence, Malfoy finally caved, though he tried to cover it up.

“I’ve got prefect duty to go get ready for,” he said. “Better not be here too late Potter. It’ll be the first place I check after curfew.”

“Still stalking me I see.”

Malfoy blushed. “Watch yourself Potter.” With that, he angrily stalked out of the room. Right as he reached the stairwell, Harry spoke up.

“It was disgusting.”

Malfoy stopped and turned to Harry confused. “What was?”

“Umbridge’s office,” Harry clarified. “It was covered in lace, in the most atrocious pinks you could possibly imagine. And she has the most horrendous kitten-themed ornamental plates. It took all I had not to vomit.”

Malfoy huffed a laugh, and looked as though he wanted to say something. But before he could, he remembered who he was talking too, and he quickly vacated the tower. Harry sighed and turned to the window. Why did this have to be so complicated? Harry thought that if he could have counted on anything, it was being enemies with Malfoy. It would seem that he could count on exactly nothing this year. It worried him to think about what else he couldn’t count on.

***

The next two days were just as bad. Harry struggled to keep up with his classes, scribbling down bits of homework whenever he got a spare minute and failing miserably within the classes themselves. His detentions with Umbridge were all just as bad as the first. Every night, the words on his hand grew more pronounced.

On his way back from his third detention, he ran into Ron, who was attempting to hide his new broom behind his back.

“Uhh, what are you doing?” Harry asked.

“Er…nothing,” Ron said unconvincingly. “What are you doing?”

“Seriously,” Harry said. “Are you actually trying to pretend you don’t have a broom with you?”

Ron sighed. “I’m hiding from Fred and George. I don’t want them to see me with it.”

“Why not?” Harry asked. “And why do you have it anyway? You haven’t been flying have you?”

“Well…”Ron began sheepishly. “I’ll tell you, but don’t laugh okay? I—I just thought I’d try out for keeper now that I’ve got a decent broom.”

“Ron that’s great,” Harry said. “Why would I laugh?” Ron shrugged and looked away. “I’ve never seen you play. Are you good?”

“I’m not bad,” he answered. “I always had to play keeper with my older brothers when they played.”

“Well, now I really wish I was going to be at tryouts,” Harry said dejectedly. “I wish you luck mate,” Harry said patting Ron on the back. As he brought his arm back down, Ron caught sight of his hand.

“Woah, what’s that?” he asked grabbing for it.

Harry yanked his hand out of the way. “Nothing,” he said quickly.

“It doesn’t look like nothing,” Ron insisted. Harry tried to walk away, but Ron quickly stepped in front of him and refused to budge. Harry sighed and showed Ron his hand. Ron looked up at Harry in shock. “Bloody hell Harry. I thought you said she was making you do lines?”

“She is,” Harry said as he started to walk away. “It’s a special quill. The words carve into my hand as I write. It’s nothing. I can handle it.”

“It’s not nothing Harry,” Ron said. “You shouldn’t have to handle it. This isn’t punishment. This is torture. You have to tell Dumbledore!”

“Like hell,” Harry said. With that, he sped up and refused to continue the conversation any further. The following evening, as Umbridge inspected Harry’s hand for the final time, Harry felt the sharp sting of pain in his scar. Umbridge, thinking his reaction was due to the pain in his hand, simply smirked and informed him he could leave.

Harry sped-walked back to the dorm, heart-thumping. What did that mean? The moment he walked into the common room Ron nearly barreled into him to let him know he had been made keeper. Harry faked excitement, but inside he despaired. He couldn’t curl up in his bed and talk to Sirius like he wanted. His friendship with Ron may not be what it used to, but he knew Ron would be disappointed if he didn’t at least pretend to celebrate. After Harry congratulated him, he went and sat at a table with Neville and Hermione, who were doing homework amidst the celebrations.

“Hey Harry,” said Neville.

“Hey Neville,” Harry responded, pulling out his supplies to begin working himself. “What are you guys working on?”

“Potions,” Neville said glumly.

Harry made a face. “Yes I suppose I should get that taken care of. Snape’s already mad at me.” They worked in silence mostly. Occasionally joining in on their classmates’ celebration. As Harry reached across the table to grab a book he needed, he heard a loud gasp from Hermione. Both he and Neville turned to her.

“Harry!” she exclaimed. “What happened to your hand?” Harry tried to hide his hand, but Hermione had already grabbed it. She and Neville examined the words etched onto it and looked up at Harry in horror.

“It’s nothing.”

“Harry…” Hermione began.

“I said it’s nothing,” Harry insisted angrily.

“You know it isn’t!” Hermione shot back. “You can’t let her do this to you! You have to tell someone. You need to go tell Dumbledore!”

“Seriously?” Harry exclaimed. “After everything he let me suffer through over the summer you people still want me to seek his help!?”

Hermione looked down ashamed. “I understand. But Harry…”

“But nothing Hermione,” Harry said. “I’m not going to him.”

“What about McGonagall?” Neville asked quietly. They both looked at him. “Can’t she help?”

“She’d probably just tell Dumbledore,” Harry answered. “But thanks for trying Neville.” Harry looked thoughtful for a moment. “But there is something I do want to talk about.” He looked at Hermione. “When Umbridge touched me today it made my scar hurt. Do you think Voldemort’s controlling her?”

Hermione thought for a second. “I mean, I don’t think we can completely rule it out, but I don’t think so. The entire problem is that you are in tune with Voldemort, so maybe you felt something because he was feeling something?” Harry looked thoughtful at that. “I know you don’t want to hear this, but that is also the kind of thing you should probably tell Dumbledore.” Harry glared at her. Hermione sighed. “Well, if you won’t tell Dumbledore, you should at least tell Sir…” Hermione stopped midsentence and looked hastily at Neville.

It was Neville’s turn to sigh. He started picking up his belongings. “Don’t worry, I can take a hint,” he said.

Harry reached out and stopped him. “No. You shouldn’t have to leave Neville. We’re all on the same side.” Harry looked around. “But we shouldn’t talk here. Come on, let’s go to our dorm and I’ll catch you up.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes,’ Harry said. “You’re my friend and I trust you. I’m not going to keep walking on eggshells when I can just tell you what’s going on.”

The two went upstairs and Harry caught Neville up on everything he didn’t know. When they were done, Harry pulled out his mirror and introduced Neville to his godfather. If Sirius had thoughts on this development, he kept them to himself for the time being. Instead, he let Harry explain about his scar and Umbridge. Sirius had rather the same though as Hermione, but instead of suggesting he tell Dumbledore, he went an entirely different route.

“You want me to tell Snape?” Harry asked incredulously.

“Look, Harry I don’t like him any more than you do, but this is exactly the kind of thing he is supposed to help you put a stop too,” Sirius said. “You have a lesson tomorrow night correct?” He waited until Harry had nodded his head. “So tell him then.”

Harry reluctantly agreed and was about to say goodnight when Neville stopped him with “Aren’t you going to tell him about the detentions?” Harry shot Neville a look that said loud and clear: _shut up._

“What about them?” Sirius asked.

Harry shook his head and was about to say nothing when Neville interrupted. “Harry, if you aren’t going to go to Dumbledore, which I completely understand by the way, you should tell Sirius. I think he would want to know.”

“Know what?” Sirius asked.

“Umbridge made Harry write lines with a special quill that etched the words into the back of his hand,” Neville answered to Harry’s dismay.

“What!?” Sirius exclaimed. “Show me.” Harry reluctantly held his hand up to the mirror and showed Sirius. “That bitch!” Neville and Harry exchanged looks. “That was a blood quill Harry. Those are supposed to be illegal.”

“Well considering she works for the ministry I don’t think she’s concerned,” Harry said.

“You’re probably right,” Sirius said. “But it still isn’t okay. I’ll ask around see if there’s anything we can do about this. For the time being, try not to piss her off yeah?” Harry nodded. And Sirius sighed as he ran his hand through his hair. “I have to go, but keep me updated Harry.”

“I will.”

“Nice to meet you Neville,’ said Sirius. “I knew your parents well. If you’re anything like your mum and dad, Harry’s found a good friend.” Sirius left before Neville could respond, but Harry thought he saw Neville wipe at his eyes as he turned away. The two got ready for bed in silence.

Harry gave clearing his mind his all, knowing his lessons with Snape were the following night. It worked a bit. He didn’t have nightmares, but his dreams were rather restless. Visions of pink kittens swam in and out of visions of blond hair. All in all, Harry was rather confused the following morning, if not somewhat well-rested.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know some of these chapters don't deviate that much from the book, but I'll be doing more of that in future chapters. I think these first two weeks are just really important to setting up Harry's mindset.


	10. New Scars and Old Scars

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warning: there is discussion of self-harm in this chapter.

Harry was the first one to wake the following morning. He’d slept well enough. He hadn’t had nightmares since his first night back. He’d been too exhausted from school and detentions and dealing with all the emotions that came with it all. He was sure that wouldn’t count with Snape though. But he didn’t have to worry about it until 8pm. It was barely 8am. Harry knew he had quidditch practice to look forward too, and he should really make some headway on his homework.

But first breakfast. And maybe a walk through the grounds to help refresh himself. His first week had been so miserable he hadn’t had the time to appreciate being back at Hogwarts. With that thought, Harry got ready as quietly as he could and made his way downstairs. He grabbed a pastry from the Great Hall and made his way outside. It was a beautiful day. Perfect quidditch weather. Harry didn’t have any place in mind, so he wandered aimlessly in a random direction.

After a few minutes of walking in silence, enjoying not having to worry about anything for the time being, Harry heard someone call his name. He looked up, and realized he was walking past the owlry. Cho Chang was walking down the stairs. She waved at him when he looked. He waved back, and walked over to her.

“Hi Cho,” Harry said brightly. “Sending a letter home already?” he added with a chuckle.

Cho laughed. It was a rather pretty laugh Harry thought. “I only just remembered when I woke up this morning that it was my mum’s birthday. I had to hurry to send her a gift.”

“At least you remembered,” Harry said.

“Yeah,” she replied. “What about you?”

“Oh I just came for a walk to get some fresh air,” Harry answered. “Come on, I’ll walk you back to the castle.”

“Thanks, Harry,” Cho said. They started walking back together, close enough for their shoulders touch. Harry thought it felt nice. “Hey, did Gryffindor ever find a new keeper?”

“Yeah, last night,” Harry answered. “My mate Ron.”

“One of the Weasleys? Is he any good?”

“Yes to the Weasley,” Harry said. “I don’t know about the being good part. I didn’t get to go to tryouts. Detention.” He shrugged his shoulders. “We have practice today, so I guess I’ll find out soon enough.”

“It’s awful about Umbridge,” Cho said quietly. “The whole school heard about what you did. About how you stood up for Ce…Cedric. It’s awful the lies she’s spewing.” Cho stopped walking to look at Harry. “It was really brave, what you said.”

“Thanks,” Harry said quietly, unsure if he should say anything else. They walked a ways in silence. Harry took the time to try and sort out his thoughts. Cho had like Cedric. But it also seems that there is a possibility she likes me, he thought. She said I was brave. Harry glanced at her out of the corner of his eyes, and noticed how pretty she looked with the sun reflecting off of her hair. Maybe, he thought. Just maybe…before he could finish the thought, he looked back to the castle. He saw a familiar head of blond hair in one of the entryway windows. He turned back to Cho.

“Uh…hey Cho,” Harry stuttered, trying to come up with something to say. Cho looked at him expectantly. “Uh…maybe we could get together and play quidditch sometime?” he asked finally. “I only ever get to play with my own team. It could be fun to play with someone else, and another seeker at that.”

“Oh that sounds great Harry,” Cho responded with a smile. “Maybe next weekend? If none of the other teams have the pitch?”

“Sounds good to me,” Harry said. “We can work it out later this week?”

“Sure.”

As the two of them made their way up the castle steps, Harry heard his name called out for the second time that morning. He looked up to see Ron waving at him. He said his goodbyes to Cho as she walked off to the Great Hall. Harry approached Ron

“What’s up?” he asked.

“I was wondering if you would come practice with me,” Ron said hesitantly. “You know, before I practice with the entire team.”

Harry sighed. “I really need to make some headway on my homework. I didn’t get a chance all week.”

“We’ll start tonight, promise,” Ron said.

“I have an occlumency lesson with Snape tonight,” Harry said.

“Oh,” Ron replied, looking dejected.

Harry sighed again. He really couldn’t just leave Ron hanging like that. It just wasn’t in him. “Okay, okay. I’ll go. But we spend all day tomorrow catching up on homework.”

“You got it!” Ron said enthusiastically. “Promise mate.” The two went upstairs and get their brooms before making their way to the pitch. They practiced for a couple hours, Ron standing in as chaser to Ron’s keeper. Harry thought he wasn’t half bad, but he could certainly use the practice. Maybe a bit of a confidence boost as well.

At lunchtime, they made their way back to the castle. They enjoyed their lunch while trying to ignore Hermione’s lecture on their lack of work ethic. Afterwards, they went to the official quidditch practice, which in Harry’s opinion was an unmitigated disaster.

Malfoy and his Slytherins spent the entire practice in the stands, offering their mocking commentary. The extra attention only made Ron’s performance worse. As they trudged off the quidditch pitch, Harry saw Malfoy leave his friends to head back to the stands. Harry barely had time to register what he was doing, before he mumbled something to his teammates about forgetting something and turning to follow the blond.

He waited until he was sure everyone else, regardless of house, was out of earshot. “Hey Malfoy!” The blond stopped suddenly and swirled around. “Where you do get off making other people feel like crap!? Do you feel better about yourself by putting others down!? Are you so insecure that you can’t help but mess with those around you!?” As Harry yelled he got closer and closer to Malfoy. The blond tried to back away, but he hit the back of the nearest set of stands. By the time Harry finished, they were face-to-face.

Malfoy’s eyes had grown wide and somewhat fearful while Harry had advanced on him, but now that Harry was finished the anger crept in. “Insecure! Insecure!” Malfoy shouted back. “Are you joking!? As if I have anything to be insecure about. It isn’t my fault other people make themselves easy targets.”

“What is wrong with you!?” Harry yelled

“What’s wrong with you!?” Malfoy shouted right back. They both stared at each other breathing heavily.

They were so close, Harry imagined for a second he could hear the boy’s heartbeat. What he wasn’t imagining was the smell. Harry thought Malfoy smelt rather like a fireplace in wintertime, and he thought it was quite nice. Then, he suddenly realized what he had just thought to himself, and quickly took a few steps back so he could no longer smell the other boy.

“Look,” he said eventually, “I know we both agreed the other night was a one-time deal, but I’m just saying there are moments when it doesn’t feel like that. And then there are moments like today when you’re a total prat and I just want to sock you like Hermione did in third year.”

Malfoy grimaced, whether at Harry’s words or the memory Harry wasn’t sure. “Well, what do you expect Potter? Are we just supposed to be best friends now because I was kind to you once? You want me to wrap my arms around your shoulders and we can skip to the Great Hall and giggle together like little school girls? You think we can just be friends now? With everything going on?”

“I see your point, no need to get snarky,” Harry spat back, annoyance laced in his words.

“I mean…” Malfoy began after a small pause. “I suppose if you wanted…” he hesitated, looking at Harry who just raised an eyebrow at him, “I mean only if you wanted…I suppose if no one knew we were…friends…acquaintances…occasionally nice to one another it wouldn’t be so bad.”

Harry looked at the Slytherin in surprise. He wanted to agree. It actually surprised him how badly he wanted to agree, but he knew it wouldn’t work. “So you want to be nice to me in private, and then take the piss out of my friends in public?” Malfoy looked at the ground.

“Well, I can’t just start being nice to everyone,” he said.

“Yes, actually,” Harry responded. “You can. You are in charge of your life. You just don’t want too. Or you’re not brave enough.”

“We can’t all be Gryffindors,” Malfoy spat out.

Harry sighed. “I can’t be friends with someone, even secret friends, if they treat everyone like crap.” Malfoy looked like he wanted to say something, but Harry decided not to give him a chance. He had wasted enough of his afternoon. Without another word, he turned and walked away.

His confrontation with Malfoy left his thoughts disordered, but he didn’t have time to dwell on it. Instead, he put it in the back of his mind. He locked it in a box and hid the key. Then, he went find Neville. If there wasn’t time for lessons, at least he could help his friend with their homework. They decided to spread out their work in the Great Hall. This way they wouldn’t have to move for supper.

The two worked, ate and worked some more. After dinner, Ron and Hermione chose to stay with them. At first, Hermione refused to help any of them, arguing that they should have started sooner. Harry winked at the guys, and started giving Neville some wrong information for his transfiguration homework. Before anyone knew what was happening, Hermione was correcting his “mistakes,” and once she started, she didn’t stop. Ron, Neville, and Harry all tried to hide their laughter, and luckily Hermione was too in the zone to notice.

As 8pm approached, Harry reluctantly packed up his school things and trudged to the potion’s classroom. He walked slowly. There was no point in getting there early and having to spend more time with his professor. When he finally arrived and knocked on the door, it was 8 on the dot.

“Come in,” he heard Snape’s voice drawled. Harry opened the door and walked in to see his professor waiting for him behind his desk. “Have a seat Potter.”

Harry made his way to the front and sat down before his professor. For a moment, they stared at each other in silence. The continuous eye contact made him uncomfortable, so he looked away and waited for his Snape to break the silence.

“You are as easy to read as ever,” Snape finally said. Harry looked up confused. “Over the summer I explained what occlumency is. Have you ever heard of legilimency?” Harry shook his head. “Essentially, it is the opposite of occlumency. One allows you to block your mind from others, and one allows you the ability to look into other’s minds—so long as they aren’t blocking you of course.”

“So, you just read my mind?” Harry asked, anger rising.

“Oh calm yourself,” Snape said with an eye roll. “I take no pleasure into looking into the thoughts of a 15-year-old teenager. But yes, essentially I just looked into your mind. I saw your anger and frustration at having to be here. There were no defenses at all. That is why it is so easy for Voldemort to get in.”

“So how do I stop it?” Harry asked impatiently.

“Momentarily Mr. Potter,” Snape said. “Black informed me you had quite the vision your first night here, is that true?” Harry nodded and recounted the dream for him. “I see. Have you had any others.” Harry hesitated. “Well?”

“I haven’t had any other nightmares or weird visions, but…” Snape raised an eyebrow at him. “Last night, when I was in detention with Umbridge, she touched me and it made my scar hurt. It used to do the same thing for Quirrell, because he was possessed by Voldemort.” Snape looked at him in surprise. “I spoke to both Hermione and Sirius, but they both think it was just a coincidence.”

“Yes it is possible,” Snape said thoughtfully. “Unfortunately, I don’t believe she is possessed. She is simply just that awful.” Harry snorted. “Have you been clearing your mind at night?”

“Not every night,” Harry admitted with a sigh. “Some nights I’m so tired I just fall asleep, but I have been trying. I did it last night.”

Snape nodded. “I expected as much. You must make an effort to practice more. You need to take this seriously. Now, grab your wand and move to the far end of the room.” Harry did as instructed. “Snape stood in front his desk, wand in hand. “Now, I am going to use legilimency to enter your mind, and you will use whatever means you can to repel me.”

“What!?”

“You heard me loud and clear Mr. Potter. Now clear your mind.”

Harry could tell there was no use arguing, so he tried his best to clear his mind. He couldn’t manage it, not with Snape standing in front of him fully armed. Before he knew it, Snape had raised his wand and pointed it directly at him.

Images flashed through his mind, but what it settled on was Malfoy. It was earlier that day, when they were arguing outside the quidditch pitch. They were face-to-face, and Harry was just thinking about how good he smelt. Suddenly he remembered that Snape was watching this and he screamed and tried to pull back. Only he didn’t know how. Suddenly he gasped for breath as he came back to himself and say Snape standing in front of him.

“Pathetic,” Snape drawled at him.

“That’s not fair,” Harry replied. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“Did I or did I not say to repel me by any means necessary?”

“Yes, but…”

“Then, I don’t know how to make myself clearer,” Snape interrupted. “What was that? With Malfoy?”

“None of your business,” Harry spat, trying not to blush. Why was he blushing?

“If you’re harassing my students it is very much my business,” Snape insisted.

“Oh, please,” Harry said. “You know damn well if I was he started it.”

“Language,” Snape snarled. He raised his wand. “Again.” Before Harry could protest, memories were once more flashing through his mind. He struggled to control the flow. He didn’t want any more memories of Malfoy to resurface. It would raise questions he couldn’t answer. Eventually, one of his detentions came to the forefront. Harry saw himself stoically writing lines. He could feel the pain of the words being etched into his hand all over again. It took less time for him to remember what was actually happening, perhaps because there was no Malfoy to distract him. Harry briefly thought he was glad Snape wasn’t seeing his other scars, and no sooner had he thought it than he was back in the bathroom on that first day of class. He fought for what felt like hours, but was probably only a few minutes before he found himself back in the classroom.

“What was that?” Snape asked quietly, as Harry lowered himself into a nearby chair.

“Detention,” he replied weakly. “With Umbridge.”

“What was she doing to your hand?”

“She had me write lines.”

“Then, why did your hand hurt?” Snape insisted.

“It’s nothing.”

“Show me,” Snape said. Harry looked away and was about to protest when Snape slowly sat down in front of him and quietly held his hand out. “Show me,” he said again. The scenario reminded Harry of when he showed Snape his scars at Grimmauld Place. He had trusted Snape in that moment. Without a word, Harry looked away as he held his hand up for Snape’s inspection. He didn’t turn back until he heard Snape’s sharp intake of breath. Harry didn’t think he had ever seen such angry across the potion master’s face. And Harry had made him plenty angry over the years.

“This is unacceptable,” Snape said through gritted teeth. “Or at least,” he amended, “it should be.” He let go of Harry’s hand. “Even you don’t deserve that.” Snape sighed. “I suppose I am not the first to advise you try to stay off her bad side.” Harry huffed a laugh and shook his head. “It is the best advice we can give you. No one can do anything about this, no matter how much they may want to. And be assured Potter, they want too.”

Harry nodded again, and thought perhaps he would be excused now. He wasn’t so lucky.

“Let me see the other ones,” Snape ordered. Harry started to pretend he didn’t understand, but Snape wasn’t having it. “Don’t bother Potter. I just want to check them.” Harry reluctantly handed over his arm. Snape inspected it. “You remembered the healing spells I taught you?” Harry nodded. “If I hadn’t seen the memory, I wouldn’t have known you had done anything. Getting your hand sliced into wasn’t enough?”

“This happened before,” Harry said defensively.

“Oh?” Snape said with an eyebrow raise.

“Yeah,” Harry said angrily. “Right after SOMEONE was a total ass and gave me zero points for a small mistake!” Harry was standing over Snape, yelling by the end. Snape looked at him in surprise. “Why?” Harry asked. “Why do you have to bully me like that? I’ve never done anything to you and yet you act like I’m the dumbest, most badly, behaved student in the room! Your own Slytherins are worse than me and yet I’m the one who gets punished!”

Harry was heaving when he finished. Snape, for once, had the foresight to look abashed. “I am…sorry that my actions drove you to such lengths.”

That brought Harry up short. Had Snape just apologized?

Snape sighed and stood. “Believe it or not, I have been in your shoes Potter. It brings me no joy to think my actions drove you to do this to yourself.” He turned and walked towards his desk. “You understand that I am a spy correct?” Harry nodded. “My Slytherins, as you called them, have, let’s say rather nefarious connections. If they were to see me being nice to their enemy, it might draw suspicion on me. That makes sense to you does it not?” Harry nodded again. “You and I know that everything has changed, but we must pretend it hasn’t. I will try to keep it reasonable.”

Harry nodded. “I suppose that’s enough,” he said quietly. “For now.”

Snape nodded back. “That is enough for today. Practice clearing your mind. Every night. That is most important. The more you practice clearing your head, the stronger you will be when I try to enter it.”

With that, Harry made his way back to his dorm. He spent a few minutes reflecting on his day. So much had transpired. Seeing as he couldn’t make sense of any of it, he decided to just go ahead and clear his mind, and just let it be for the time.

***

The following day saw Harry, Ron, and Neville knee deep in books, parchment, and ink, just as Ron had promised. Ron had spent the week practicing quidditch, Harry in detention, and Neville was just constantly behind. The three helped one another as best they could, and by the end of the day Harry had a splitting headache and wished he’d never see another sheet of parchment again. The three vowed to not let things get this bad. At least this week will be better, Harry thought.

This week was not better.

Monday morning saw a Daily Prophet announcement of the new High Inquisitor. Everyone’s new least favorite professor now had the power to inspect, and fire, other professors. Harry was beginning to think he should have just let the ministry expel him.

That morning they trudged off to potions. Not trusting Snape to keep his word, Harry was extra careful not to give the surly professor an excuse to pick on him. He read all the instructions four times, and practically ignored everyone else. The final result may not have been a perfect potion, but it was certainly passable, and at this stage passing was Harry’s best hope.

After lunch, and a rather depressing discussion of O.W.L. grades that did not boost Harry’s spirits, he and Neville made their way to divination, only to discover they wouldn’t have to wait until defense to see Umbridge. After what was an abysmal class, honestly Trelawney was bound to be sacked before the year was out, they proceeded in what Harry thought rather resembled a death march to their defense classroom.

To say Harry wasn’t looking forward to seeing Umbridge was an understatement. However, one thing was certain: he was NOT going to get on her bad side today.


	11. Unusual Behavior

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning: mentions of self-harm

Harry’s determination to not get into more trouble did not last long. It would seem that Umbridge’s entire teaching strategy revolved around forcing students to read endlessly boring chapters. Despite the annoyance, Harry was adamant that he wasn’t going to give Umbridge a chance to punish him again. That was until Hermione protested of course. So really, this was all Hermione’s fault.

Harry tried. He really did. But when Umbridge started to insist that Quirrell was the only defense teacher they had had worth his salt, Harry couldn’t take it. After all, he mustn’t tell lies.

“Oh yeah, Quirrell was the best,” he said. “I’m sure having Lord Voldemort sticking out of the back of his head was really useful in planning appropriate lessons for schoolkids.”

“I think another week’s detentions would do you some good, Mr. Potter,” said Umbridge.

The cut on his hand had not truly had a chance to heal. That night saw new, fresh cuts. Harry had thought ahead this time, and packed a cloth to wrap it in. He didn’t make a single sound during his detention. He refused to give Umbridge an ounce of satisfaction. But that doesn’t mean it wasn’t getting to him.

As soon as he was out of her eyesight, he wrapped and cradled his hand, and found the nearest toilet. He wasn’t familiar enough with healing spells to know how to fix it, and the ones Snape had given him for his scars didn’t seem to work. He briefly thought that cutting might make him feel better, and then he remember Snape’s words about one set of cuts being enough.

It was getting easier to make out the words. Soon “I must not tell lies” would be clear as day on his hand. Harry’s frustration came out in a few silent tears. He stayed in the toilet until he calmed down before trudging to the common room. He bandaged his hand and got to work. After last week, he knew he couldn’t afford to save all of his homework until the weekend. He had a choice to make. He could sacrifice sleep or he could sacrifice good grades. In the end, Harry decided he would rather be tired than risk further punishment from his professors for failing.

The following day only got worse when Angela confronted him about missing more practice. This in and of itself was not the worst thing Harry had experienced, but then her shouting attracted Professor McGonagall. To say his head of house was not pleased with his new detentions was a bit of an understatement.

“Are you telling me,” her voice deadly low, “that after the warning I gave you last Monday, you lost your temper in Professor Umbridge’s class again?”

“Yes,” Harry muttered, speaking to the floor.

“Potter you must get a grip on yourself!”

“Do you think I want to get detention Professor!” Harry exclaimed. “I’m not any happier about this than you are!”

“Well you could have fooled me,” she said. “Five points from Gryffindor.”

“What!?” Harry exclaimed, but Professor McGonagall had already walked away in anger. As if this injustice wasn’t enough, Hermione agreed with her of course. He spent his lunch in the toilet, fighting the urge to cut himself. He knew he had more lines to do, and there was little sense in harming himself further. But most days, it felt like the only thing he had control over. He could feel the walls begin to close in on him, so he put his head between his knees and took deep breaths until he felt able to go to class.

Charms was uneventful, but Umbridge was sitting in the corner of transfiguration when they arrived. Although McGonagall certainly didn’t allow any of Umbridge’s nonsense, it was overall a bit of a disappointment. Harry had hoped that was the last he would see of the High Inquisitor until his next detention, so his mood darkened when he saw her waiting, clipboard in hand, for their Care of Magical Creatures Class to begin. Harry was determined to stay out of her way, until of course Malfoy had to go and get involved.

“I understand there have been injuries in this class?” Umbridge asked.

“Oh yeah, that was me,” said Malfoy. “I was attacked by a hippogriff third year.” Harry ad Malfoy made eye contact and Harry narrowed his eyes. As if it what he and his father did to Hagrid third year wasn’t enough, he had to attack a man that wasn’t even present. Harry was seething.

“A hippogriff!” Umbridge exclaimed.

“Don’t let that twat fool anyone,” Harry interjected against his better judgment and his friends’ protestations. “He was attacked because he couldn’t follow basic instructions.”

Umbridge smirked at Harry. “Another detention Mr. Potter. It seems not only do you enjoy spreading lies, but you must also deride your classmates.”

It was nearly midnight by the time he returned to the common room with blood dripping from his hand. Hermione was waiting up for him, with a bowl containing a solution of strained and pickled murtlap tentacles, which made his hand feel much better. He told her to go on to bed, as he resigned himself to a couple hours of homework.

After about an hour of trying to focus on his potion’s essay instead of his altercation with Malfoy, and failing miserably, Harry’s head was beginning to ache. He pushed his parchment aside, and took out the two-way mirror in his pocket to see if Sirius was awake. Lucky for Harry, he was.

“Hey Sirius,” Harry said once his godfather’s face was reflected back to him.

“Hey yourself Harry,” Sirius said. “What’s got you up so late?”

“Homework,” Harry said with a sigh.

Sirius laughed. “Why didn’t you do it earlier?”

“Oh and you were so good about completing homework on time when you were a student were you?” Harry teased.

“Not even a little bit,” Sirius said with a smirk. “But as your godfather I am obligated to insist you develop better habits than me.”

Harry laughed. Sirius certainly knew how to cheer a guy up. “Well you’re up aren’t you?”

“I am an adult with long-standing bad habits,” Sirius indicated. “You must be sure to not follow in my footsteps,” he added dramatically. “Now, why are _you_ up so late?”

Harry sighed. “I have detention again this week,” he admitted. “Last week everything piled up because I was so tired when I got back. It sucked trying to do it all at once, so this week I’m just sacrificing sleep to get it done.”

Sirius’ brow furrowed. “You got another week’s detention? With who?”

_I must not tell lies. _“Uhh, Umbridge.”

“Harry!” Sirius exclaimed. “What did I tell you about her!?”

“Well I didn’t do it on purpose!” Harry said. “I don’t want detentions!”

“Well, you could have fooled me,” Sirius said with the most disapproving tone Harry had ever heard from him. “I suppose she has you doing more lines.” Harry nodded. “Goddammit Harry. Look I know this is awfully hypocritical of me, but you have got to stop getting into trouble.”

“Again, I’m not trying,” Harry insisted. “All I’m doing is telling the truth.”

“Well, have you considered lying?” Sirius suggested, only half joking. “Just where Umbridge is concerned.”

Harry rubbed his hand. _I must not tell lies._ “I know that’s the logical thing to do,” he said. “But it just feels so much like losing. Or giving in. We can’t beat Voldemort if we aren’t honest about it.”

“I know that Harry, but sometimes it is important to watch your tongue.”

“You’re one to talk,” Harry said with annoyance.

Sirius ran his hand through his hair. “Harry believe me I know how this sounds coming from me, but you have _got _to try harder.”

For some reason, this made Harry angry. He thought about taking Sirius’ advice about Umbridge here in this instance, and simply lying about what he felt. _I must not tell lies._ But then he realized that maybe Sirius didn’t deserve the lie.

“Actually, I don’t see that I _have _to do anything,” Harry said. “Not for you, or any other adult. The way I see it, if everyone wants to put the weight of the world on a 15-year-old’s shoulders, they can damn well live with the consequences.”

Harry heard Sirius start to protest, but he didn’t stop to listen. Instead, he wrapped up the mirror and shoved it into his bag, before packing up and going to bed. As he lay there attempting to clear his mind, all he could think about was all the ways adults had failed him lately. Granted, his friends had also failed him. Only Neville hadn’t, and that was because he wasn’t much involved just yet.

Everyone failed him. Harry thought of Malfoy and their encounter at the quidditch pitch. Even those who could previously be counted on to be consistent in their behaviors. And that bothered Harry more than he wanted to admit.

_I must not tell lies._

***

The following night was more of the same. Harry fumbled through his classes, struggled to complete his homework in between, and suffered through another detention. It was all becoming too much.

Those who were supposedly on his side, like McGonagall and Sirius, were angry with him, as if it was unreasonable that a teenage boy who had suffered through everything he had would have the occasional outburst. Those who he would have traditionally considered his friends, such as his quidditch mates and Hermione, were also cross with him. And those who were unsure, or outright hated him, were quite enjoying the drama.

By the time he finished his third detention for the week, you could clearly read the words on the back of his hand. He had written them so many times, they flitted through his head like snow in winter. Having become intimately familiar with the castle’s toilets, they were the only places one could be alone during the day, Harry chose to make his way to the astronomy tower after detention for a change of scenery. It was past curfew, but he knew the common room would still have people. He wanted to be alone.

It was a clear night. Harry stood by the open window and took a deep breath of the fresh night air. If he focused on the stars, the pain in his hand faded away. Of course, he couldn’t help but remember that the last few visits to this tower included a certain blond. For a moment, he wished Malfoy was here with him. The desire quickly turned to anger.

Why would I want him here with me, Harry thought. He’d only mock me, and anyway, I came here to be alone. No sooner had he decided that he most certainly did not want Malfoy there, an all-to-familiar voice startled him out of his reverie.

“Well, well, well,” Malfoy drawled, echoing the very first night they met in the tower. “It seems we have a lost little lion out after hours.”

Harry regarded Malfoy coolly. For once, his temper was completely under control. Perhaps it was because he had worked through his emotions just seconds before. Honestly, Harry thought, this castle must read my mind; as soon as I think something, it happens.

“Well, well, well,” Harry mimicked. “It looks like we have a little snake desperate for some attention from his favorite hero.” Harry smirked when he saw an obvious blush fill Malfoy’s cheeks.

“You’re just as crazy as the Daily Prophet claims Potter,” Malfoy spat back. “And I do think perhaps some punishment is in order. How about…10 house points?”

Harry rolled his eyes. “You can take 100 if you want Malfoy. I could really care less about house points.”

“Well I’d give you detention, but I hear you’re already neck-deep in it?”

Harry sighed. “Yeah, well I’m certainly not scared of whatever detention you could come up with.”

“Bet you’re scared of our High Inquisitor,” Malfoy said. “I heard she’s gone and put you in your place.”

“Oh yeah?” Harry asked. “You’re so eager for news about me you’re scouring the castle for any little tidbit? Or perhaps you’ve asked about me? Such a devoted little fan.”

If possible, Malfoy blushed even harder. “Don’t you…it’s not…” Malfoy struggled to find words. “It’s not my fault the entire castle knows your business. It’s not exactly hard information to find,” Malfoy finally spat out.

“Well, that must make things easy for you then,” Harry retorted. “You don’t even have to go looking for news. Must make it easier to keep your friends from knowing how big of a Harry Potter fan you are.” Harry made to walk out of the tower. “Be a shame if someone were to tell them about your obsession with a certain Gryffindor boy.”

With that, Harry tried to leave. “Don’t you just walk away from me,” Malfoy exclaimed. He leaped towards Harry and grabbed the first thing he could, which just so happened to be Harry’s injured hand.

“OW!” Harry yelled. He leaped back and cradled his hand to his chest. “Fuck,” he said through clenched teeth. “Watch it.” Harry couldn’t be sure, but for a moment he could have sworn a look of worry passed over the blonde’s face.

“What’s wrong?” Malfoy asked.

“Like you care,” Harry replied. There was a moment of tense silence, where they both stared at one another. Eventually, Malfoy took a tentative step forward and held out his hand.

“Let me see,” he said quietly.

“Are you mad?” Harry asked.

“Look,” Malfoy began, “I know you don’t have much reason too, but please just trust me. I’m more than decent at healing magic.”

Harry was startled. He wouldn’t have thought healing magic much worth Malfoy’s time. He had questions, but now was neither the time nor place. “Healing magic won’t work on this.”

“How do you know?”

“People smarter than you have tried.”

“Who?” Malfoy sneered. “Granger? She’s talented. I’ll give her that. But I’ve been around magic my entire life. Trust me. There are just some areas a raised wizard is more knowledgeable of.” Harry didn’t budge. Malfoy sighed. “What’s the real reason you won’t show me?”

That gave Harry pause. He looked down at his hand and tried to figure out what to say. He didn’t want to admit the truth. _I must not tell lies._ Harry looked back at Malfoy.

“I don’t want you to think less of me,” he said quietly.

Malfoy nodded. “I understand,” he said just as quietly. “I won’t think any less. Whatever it is.” Harry looked doubtful. “How about a truce? A temporary moment of niceness between enemies.”

Harry thought about it for a moment. Realizing it really couldn’t hurt anything, and that he genuinely did trust Malfoy for some unfathomable reason, he gingerly handed over his hand.

Malfoy took it gently, and carefully unfolded the cloth that covered it. Harry had just enough time to wonder at the softness of the Slytherin’s hands before Malfoy took in a sharp breath. He looked from the hand to Harry and back again.

“How?” he asked.

“Umbridge,” Harry answered.

Malfoy’s eyes grew big with shock. “Umbridge did this to you?”

“Apparently, it’s called a blood quill,” Harry said. “So yes, Umbridge did this to me. What did you think she had me doing in detention all this time?”

“I…I don’t know,” Malfoy said. “I didn’t…I…”

“You what?” Harry said, snatching his hand back. “You weren’t aware of the sort of people you were aligned with? The fact that your father sold his soul to a man who has no qualms killing babies wasn’t a bit of a clue in?”

Malfoy refused to meet Harry’s eyes. He had nothing to say. Harry’s anger grew. They had been here already. He had already told Malfoy why they couldn’t be friends. He knew better.

“I hope Malfoy,” Harry offered, “I hope that one day you wake up, and realize exactly whose side you’re on.” With that, Harry turned and marched out of the tower.

The following night, after yet another detention, Harry found himself in the common room completing homework with Neville, Ron, and Hermione.

Harry sighed as he finished up an essay. He glanced at Neville beside him. “One of these days we’ll get to those lessons Neville,” Harry said. “As soon as I can manage to stop landing myself in detention.”

“I know you will Harry,” Neville said. “You’re not one to go back on a promise.”

“About that Harry,” Hermione interrupted. “I had a thought.” Everyone stopped to look at her. “Well we have our exams at the end of the year. And with Voldemort out there, we really need to be prepared. With Umbridge as our teacher, I can’t see how we’ll be prepared for anything.”

“Well what do you suggest Hermione?” Ron asked. “It’s not as if we can just get her fired.”

“No, but perhaps we can find someone else to teach us,” Hermione responded.

“Who?” asked Ron.

“Well, Harry of course,” said Neville. Harry and Ron both looked up at him in surprise. “Well, that’s what you were going for right Hermione? It makes the most sense.”

“Yes Neville,” Hermione said with a smile. “That is exactly what I was going to suggest.”

“Wait a minute,” Harry protested. “Let me get this straight. You want me to teach others defense?”

“Well weren’t you already planning on doing that?” Hermione asked.

“Well, I mean,” Harry began, “I’ve been calling them “lessons,” but I was thinking more it would be Neville and I helping each other with our classes. And then Ron asked to join, and I figured the more the merrier…but I never really considered myself as a teacher.”

“Well you could be,” Hermione said.

“I don’t know Hermione,” Harry said uncertainly. “What makes me qualified to teach anyone anything?”

“Are you kidding mate?” Ron asked. “You’ve beat Voldemort, what is it now, four times?”

“I don’t think the time I was a baby should count,” Harry protested.

“So three then,” Neville said. “That’s still more than just about anyone else could boast about.”

“Okay, maybe,” Harry said. “But most of that was sheer dumb luck and a great deal of help.”

“You’re selling yourself short mate,” Ron insisted.

“I’m really not,” Harry protested. “I would have never made it to the stone first year if not for you and Hermione. And I only defeated Quirrell because of some arcane magic left over from my mother’s sacrifice.”

“Okay, but…”

“And second year I only survived because Fawkes showed up with a magical hat that gave me weapons.”

“You still had too…”

“And last year I only survived the tournament because Crouch wanted me too,” Harry said. “And if it wasn’t for that weird wand thing where the spirits of my parents and Cedric helped me out I wouldn’t have survived the cemetery.”

“Enough Harry!” Hermione exclaimed. They all looked at her in surprise. “We get it. You’ve had help and a fair share of luck. But the matter stands that you’ve always been better at defense than the rest of us AND you’re the only one among us who has actually faced Voldemort. You’re the best choice.”

Harry sighed. “Okay, so let’s say I agree to this,” Harry began. “Who exactly am I teaching? People think I’m a nutter remember?”

“More people believe you than you realize Harry,” Hermione insisted. “And even more people would be willing to put that aside to get some proper lessons.”

Harry looked at their three expectant faces and sighed in defeat. He wasn’t sure why he was even protesting. Hermione doesn’t give up on something once she’s put her mind to it, and he was rather excited about the prospect if he was being honest. _I must not tell lies._

“Alright,” he said finally. “I’ll do it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am SO sorry this is late. Yesterday was the start of the semester's busiest week. Next week may be late as well. I haven't written the next chapter yet and I don't know when I will have time. I also apologize if their are any mistakes in this chapter. I sped edited.


	12. Unlikely Revelations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Very brief mention of self-harm.

Although the words etched on the back of Harry’s hand refused to fade, Harry considered himself lucky to not have any more detentions. The next week flew by quickly. Harry finally got a moment to focus on his classes and his homework. He even started having small lessons with Neville. Ron said he’d wait for the real lessons; he’d rather practice quidditch.

Friday night saw Harry and Neville wands out in an empty classroom. Harry had planned to focus on their current work, but Neville was so far behind, that Harry figured it was no use. They had to backtrack. Harry decided to start simple—expelliarmus. They had been at it for 20 minutes and Neville had yet to disarm Harry.

“It’s no use Harry,” Neville said dejectedly. “I’m just no good. I might as well be a squib.”

“Don’t say that Neville,” Harry said. “You just have to believe in yourself.”

“Why?” Neville asked. “No one else does.”

“That’s exactly why Neville,” Harry insisted. “There’s no better feeling than proving people wrong. Trust me. I would know.”

Neville was quiet for a moment, just staring at the wand in his hands. “You really think I could?” he asked finally.

“It doesn’t matter what I think Neville,” Harry answered. “It only matters if you think you can.” Harry got back into position. “But, for the record, yes. I do think you can.”

Neville looked up in surprise. He smiled at Harry and got back into positon. “Okay, let’s do it.”

“Grip your wand tight,” Harry instructed. “And mean it Neville. You have to really mean it.”

“Okay Harry I’ll try,” Neville said. He took some deep breaths and Harry could tell he was really concentrating. He took one more breath before pointing his wand at Harry and shouting, “EXPELLIARMUS!” Red light shot out of his wand and next thing Harry knew his wand was flying from his hand. No one was more surprised than Neville himself. He stared at his wand. “I did it,” he said in surprise. He looked up at Harry who had a smile that took up his entire face.

“You did it!” Harry exclaimed.

“I really did it!” Neville exclaimed back. He ran over to Harry and wrapped him in a hug. “I did it!”

“Yeah Neville,” Harry squeaked out. “But uhh…could you not suffocate me?”

“Oh sorry Harry,” Neville said, releasing Harry. “I’m just so excited.”

“You should be,” Harry said. “I’m proud of you Neville.” Neville beamed at Harry, but before either of them could talk again, a familiar dreamy voice spoke up from the doorway.

“What are you guys excited about?” Luna asked. “Did you see a wrackspurt?”

“Oh hey Luna,” Harry said. “And uh…no. I didn’t see a wrackspurt. Neville completed the spell we were working on.”

“Oh?” Luna asked. “I thought we weren’t supposed to do spells,” she asked with a dreamy smirk.

“Well,” Harry began, “technically we aren’t supposed to do spells in class.” Luna laughed. “What are you doing?”

“Oh just wandering,” Luna replied.

“Looking for wrackspurts?” Neville offered.

“Among other things,” she replied. “Are you both finished, or are practicing some more?”

“Up to you Neville,” Harry said. “What do you say? Want to try another one?”

“You bet Harry!” Neville answered.

“What about you Luna?” Harry asked. “Want to join us?”

“Sure,” Luna said.

The three of them spent the next hour and a half working on the stunning spell. By the end of the night, Neville had not quite mastered it, but he had certainly made progress. Harry told him so, and figured that one more practice would do it. Luna thanked them for letting her join, and the two boys headed back towards their common room to complete homework. They joined Ron and Hermione at the table the two were spread out on. Neville regaled them with his successes and the two looked at him and Harry in surprise.

“Still worried about teaching others?” Hermione asked Harry. Harry rolled his eyes.

***

The following morning as Harry was leaving the Great Hall after breakfast, he saw Cho Chang doing the same. He suddenly remembered his promise that the two of them would go flying together. Not being behind on homework at the moment, Harry thought it was a perfect day to make good on that promise. His practice wasn’t until the afternoon anyway.

“Hey Cho!” Harry called out. She turned to look at him and smiled.

“Hey Harry!” she responded cheerfully.

“Are you busy this morning?” he asked. “I was thinking we could go flying. You know, like we talked about?”

“Oh!” Cho exclaimed, her eyes lighting up. “That sounds lovely Harry! I’ll have to go get my broom.”

“Me too,’ Harry said. “Meet in the entryway?”

“Sure thing!” Cho answered.

Harry hurried up to his dorm to get his broom and change into his gear. He had thought Hermione would disapprove of the way he was choosing to spend his morning, but instead she just smirked at him when he told her and Ron. He blushed as he headed out the common room. He couldn’t stop the butterflies in his stomach as he made his way down to the first floor. This was the first time he would really spend alone time with Cho. He wasn’t sure his previous 5-minute conversations counted.

When he came around the corner and saw her standing in the entry waiting for him and he felt a flutter in his chest. He wondered if he would be able to manage the morning without making a complete arse of himself. Cho looked over as he walked up and smiled at him. He liked her smile.

“Ready?” he asked.

“Sure am,” she replied.

The two chatted about their classes as they made their way down to the pitch. Talking to Cho was easier than Harry thought it would be. She had a silvery laugh that Harry quite enjoyed. He made it a point to make her laugh. When they arrived at the pitch, they grabbed a snitch and decided to have a contest of seekers. Harry thought it was much less of a contest than it was him just trying to show off for Cho.

He tried all the dangerous maneuvers just to show her he could. Of course he caught the snitch many times, but he also let Cho catch it just as often. It was important to be a gentlemen. At least, Harry thought he was letting Cho catch it. She was rather good herself.

When they had had enough of their “contest” Harry offered to let Cho try out his firebolt. Afterwards, they decided to hang out on the grass of the pitch because it was such a beautiful day.

“That really is an amazing broom!” Cho exclaimed. “I was convinced it was all hype. You know how people are. Every new broom is better and faster.”

“It almost makes me happy that my old one got destroyed,” Harry said with a laugh.

“I bet!” said Cho. “No wonder you guys won that year!”

“Good thing we did,” Harry said. “Our chances don’t seem as good this year.” He plucked some blades of grass.

“Really?” Cho asked. “The team’s that bad? I thought most of the players were returning.”

“They did,” he said. “Ron is the only new player.”

“And he’s not good?”

“He’s decent,” Harry said. “When no one is looking,” he added with a sigh. “Some slytherins came to our first practice and it was an unmitigated disaster. I’m actually afraid to see what a game will look like.”

“Wow,” she said. “That sucks. Well, for you guys anyway.” She laughed.

Harry gave her a playful shove. “Hey now.” They chatted for a while longer before heading back to the castle for lunch.

“Hey, rumor has it that you plan to teach those who are willing to learn?” Cho asked. “You know, considering that some of our instructors this year are a bit sub-par.”

Harry raised his eyebrows. “You heard about that?” Harry asked. “It was Hermione’s idea but I didn’t realize how far it reached. Hope it doesn’t reach Umbridge.”

“Oh don’t worry,” Cho assured him. “No one is that dumb. Everyone’s real careful about who they tell.”

“Well, yeah,” Harry said. “I sort of agreed to teach people. I started with Neville last night. He’s already improving.” Harry paused. “I don’t know when I’ll be branching out. I guess I should talk to Hermione about that.”

“Well, let me know when you do,” Cho said as they reached the castle.

“Sure thing.”

“I had fun today,” she said. “We should hang out again.”

Harry caught sight of a familiar head of blond hair out of the corner of his eye. “Definitely,” he said with a smile.

***

The following week was also relatively normal. He received a note from Snape on Wednesday instructing him of another occlumency lesson on Saturday night. On Thursday, the Daily Prophet published another story about how crazy Harry and Dumbledore were. The whispers followed him all day. He could feel the stares on his back as he walked by. Twice he was forced to hide in the loo until the panic subsided. He resisted the urge to cut. Just barely, but he did it.

When he left the toilet the second time, he ran face first into Malfoy. The blond stumbled backwards and without thinking, Harry reached out to catch him. The end result was an armful of slytherin. The two looked at each other in shock for a moment, before Harry quickly let Malfoy go and stepped back. Malfoy just stared at him in surprise. Right as he collected himself and made to speak, Harry was also able to step out of his shock and beat him to it.

“Watch it Malfoy,” he spat. He pushed past the blond and stalked away.

“You watch it Potter,” Malfoy spat back. “Five points from Gryffindor.”

“Whatever.”

The following night, Harry had another lesson with Neville and Luna. Harry actually felt bad. They had not thought to invite her, but they had found her in the corridor on their way. Harry had the sneaking suspicion that she had been hanging around the place she had seen them the previous week in the hopes she could join them again. Harry didn’t think she had many friends.

They continued practicing the stun spell and by the end of the night Neville had successfully pulled it off. He was ecstatic. He even told Harry that he was improving a bit with his school work.

“Yeah?” Harry asked.

“I mean, the classes themselves are about the same,” Neville admitted. “But my homework grades are improving!”

“That’s great Neville,” Harry said. He saw Luna hovering by the doorway, unsure if she should leave. “Hey Luna, I don’t know if you’ve heard, but I might be expanding these lessons soon. You’re welcome to join when I do.”

“Oh that sounds lovely Harry,” Luna said. “I will keep my ears peeled.”

The next day Harry and his friends mostly did homework. Even though he wasn’t falling behind anymore, the professors were still giving them an enormous amount of homework. The good news about not being behind was that they didn’t have to work nonstop. They actually got to hang out as friends for a change.

“So,” Hermione began gingerly, “how was your date with Cho last week?”

Everyone stopped what they were doing to stare at Harry. If he had been drinking something he would have spit it out. As it was, he nearly punched a hole in the parchment he was writing on. He looked up at Hermione in surprise.

“My what!?” he exclaimed.

“Your date,” Hermione repeated. “With Cho.”

“We didn’t…it wasn’t…that’s not,” Harry sputtered, face getting red. “It wasn’t a date,” he finally managed.

“You met up with Cho right?” she asked.

“Yes, but…”

“And you guys hung out together?”

“Well, obviously. But we were just…”

“And you talked a lot?”

“Yes…”

“And flirted?”

“Okay well I don’t know about…”

“Face it Harry,” she said smugly. “It was a date.” Ron and Neville tried to hide the fact that they were sniggering behind their books.

Harry sighed angrily. He refused to meet anyone’s eyes. “It was fine,” he muttered.

“Are you going to have another one?” Ron asked.

“I suppose,” Harry said. “We talked about hanging out again, but we didn’t make any plans.”

“Nice mate,” Ron said. Neville nodded along.

“She also heard about the whole “Harry teaches everyone” idea,” he added. “She’s interested. I didn’t realize how far this whole thing had spread.”

“Yes I’ve been meaning to tell you that the response I’ve been getting is quite good,” Hermione admitted. “I was thinking we could set a meeting next weekend in Hogsmeade. Better to do it outside of the castle, away from Umbridge.”

“Works for me,” Harry said.

***

That night Harry glumly made his way down to Snape’s office. His potions professor had kept his word. He was never close to pleasant to him, but he hadn’t purposefully failed him either. That didn’t mean Harry was in any way looking forward to spending extra time with him.

He had been practicing clearing his mind every night. He hadn’t had any nightmares in weeks, only a recurring dream about a strange corridor. However, he still wasn’t sure about his ability to keep Snape out of his mind. He reluctantly knocked on the door of Snape’s office at 8pm sharp and heard the familiar voice drawl, “Enter.”

Just like his previous lesson, he entered to see Snape sitting as his desk. He was writing something, though Harry neither knew nor cared what.

“Sit,” Snape said. Harry did so. “Have any incidents occurred since our last lesson that I should know about?”

“No.”

“No?” Snape raised an eyebrow at Harry. “No nightmares? No visions? No weird dreams?”

“No,” Harry said. “Nothing.”

“You know that if you are lying I will know,” Snape insisted.

Harry sighed. “I’m being honest. There’s been nothing. The only thing even that might be worth talking about is that I’ve been having a recurring dream of a corridor with a doorway at the end. Nothing exciting.”

“Do you know this corridor?” Snape asked.

“No, but it looks familiar,” Harry answered. “It’s as if I’ve seen it some…wait a minute.” Harry smacked himself. “It’s the corridor from the dream where I was Voldemort.”

“Well you’re right nothing at all to report,” Snape said sarcastically.

Harry rolled his eyes. “Well I wasn’t intentionally leaving out important information. I only just realized it was the same place. Where is it?”

“Nowhere you need to know,” Snape answered.

“But you do know where it is,” Harry insisted.

Snape sighed. “It is a place the Dark Lord is preoccupied with at the moment. That is all you need to know.” Snape stood up. “Now, get into position. We will repeat what we did last time. I will enter your mind and you will repel me by any means necessary.”

Harry got himself into position. He tried to clear his mind, but Snape was too fast. Before he could so much as blink, he was back on the quidditch pitch with Cho. They were once more flying around trying to out-seeker each other. Harry fought with everything he could, and with a shout he was back in Snape’s office. He nearly fell over and just barely caught himself on a desk.

“Charming,” Snape drawled.

“Shut up,” Harry retorted.

“Again,” Snape said. Before Harry could even right himself properly, he was being attacked again. This time, his mind took him to the tower.

_Malfoy had just grabbed his hand, which caused him to jerk away._

_“What’s wrong?” Malfoy asked._

_ “Like you care,” Harry replied._

_ “Let me see,” he said quietly._

_ “Are you mad?” Harry asked._

_ “Look,” Malfoy began, “I know you don’t have much reason too, but please just trust me. I’m more than decent at healing magic.”_

_ “Healing magic won’t work on this.”_

_ “How do you know?”_

_ “People smarter than you have tried.”_

_ “Who?” Malfoy sneered. “Granger? She’s talented. I’ll give her that. But I’ve been around magic my entire life. Trust me. There are just some areas a raised wizard is more knowledgeable of.” Harry didn’t budge. Malfoy sighed. “What’s the real reason you won’t show me?”_

_ He looked down at his hand and tried to figure out what to say. He didn’t want to admit the truth. I must not tell lies. Harry looked back at Malfoy._

_ “I don’t want you to think less of me,” he said quietly._

_ Malfoy nodded. “I understand,” he said just as quietly. “I won’t think any less. Whatever it is.” Harry looked doubtful. “How about a truce? A temporary moment of niceness between enemies.”_

_ Harry thought about it for a moment. Realizing it really couldn’t hurt anything, and that he genuinely did trust Malfoy for some unfathomable reason, he gingerly handed over his hand._

This time, Harry wasn’t strong enough to kick Snape out. The professor left on his own. The two stared at another in silence. Harry could feel a blush spread across his cheeks.

“Malfoy again?” Snape asked quietly.

“I wasn’t harassing him,” Harry said defensively.

“That much was obvious,” Snape said. “That was not what I was going to remark.”

“Oh yeah?” Harry asked. “What then?”

“I was only going to say that it is rather strange that the two of you keep meeting,” Snape said. “And peacefully at that.” Harry stayed stubbornly quiet. “It is also rather unusual how my seeing you with Cho didn’t bother you, but you seem rather more affected by your memories of Malfoy.”

Harry blushed harder and refused to meet Snape’s eyes. “I don’t know what you are talking about.” Snape raised his eyebrow. “I don’t,” Harry insisted.

“Well, I certainly won’t be pulling it out of you then,” Snape said. “On the list of discussions I’d rather not have with you, this would be at the top. Perhaps a talk with your godfather is in order?”

Harry nodded, just hoping it would be enough to make Snape shut up. It was. He readied himself for another attack. They spent the next hour battling for dominance over Harry’s mind. Judging by Snape’s sour look, he wasn’t doing well. Then again, Snape always looked sour.

Nonetheless, Harry was more than ready to call it quits. He collapsed into his bed that night thinking about the session.

Why had he been more embarrassed about Snape seeing him with Malfoy? His moment with Cho was meant to private. Their date, as Hermione had so bluntly put it, was a moment he certainly didn’t want Snape looking in on.

But I want him looking in on Malfoy even less, he thought. But why? Because it was private, he answered. But wasn’t his date with Cho private. But his time with Malfoy was more special.

What? Harry couldn’t figure out his own mind. Why would he feel more strongly about Malfoy than the girl he had a crush on?

Unless….

No. No absolutely not.


	13. Locked Boxes

The following week was a complete blur. Had anyone asked Harry to recall any specific moment from the entire week, he couldn’t have done it. He knows he went to meals and classes. He knows that he did things. He took notes and practiced spells and did his homework. He is certain he had conversations with his friends and classmates. But if any one of them asked him to recall the conversations or actions or words on parchment he could not do it.

To say he was rather preoccupied was a bit of an understatement. No matter what he tried, he could not get Saturday night out of his mind. He could not forget what Snape told him, and he could not forget how much sense it made. And yet, he refused to believe it.

Snape had suggested he speak with Sirius. Harry had thought about it. He really had. He trusted Sirius. But the last time they spoke had been in anger. They had never made up. And then, Harry realized that speaking to Sirius would mean that there was something to speak about. There wasn’t. Harry was adamant about that. Why waste Sirius’ time if there was nothing to say?

Harry Potter certainly didn’t like blokes. And EVEN if he did, he certainly, most definitely, absolutely did not like Draco “My Father is a Death Eater” Malfoy. Malfoy was arrogant. Rude. Cruel. And on the wrong side of the war.

No. Even if Harry Potter did like blokes, he wouldn’t like someone as awful as Draco Malfoy. He’d like someone much better….like Cedric?

Harry shook his head for the 300th time that week. He wasn’t going to talk to Sirius. He wasn’t going to talk to anyone. Because he didn’t like blokes. And he didn’t like Malfoy. He liked Cho. Cho with her pretty smile and hair and laugh and damn good quidditch skills. But he. Did. Not. Like. Malfoy.

So the week was a blur of meals and classes and homework. He and Neville had decided against holding another session until the official lessons began. Hermione had spread the word that anyone interested should attend a secret meeting in Hogsmeade. Once everyone was on board, they would find a place and time to begin meeting.

Neville decided he could wait until then for more lessons. In the meantime, he and Harry continued working on their homework together. At least, Harry knew they had. He couldn’t remember what they worked on exactly. But he knew they had.

Friday afternoon, Harry realized he couldn’t keep going on in a daze. He had been trying to clear his mind, not only before he slept, but during the day as well. It didn’t work. As much as he didn’t want to, he knew there was only one person he could really ask.

So after dinner, he found himself heading down to the dungeons. He hesitated before Professor Snape’s door and forced himself to knock before he could back out. He heard his professor call out “Enter,” and he made his way inside. To say Snape was surprised to see him was even more of an understatement than saying Harry was preoccupied.

“Potter?” Snape asked. “To what do I owe the displeasure?”

Harry rolled his eyes. He took a deep breath before answering. “Well, I had a few questions…about occlumency, sir.”

Snape raised his eyebrows and quietly set aside whatever he was working on. “Is that so? Go on then.”

Harry sat in front of Snape’s desk and thought about how to phrase his question without giving anything away. “Well…um…you know how I am supposed to clear my mind and stuff? Well do you think you could give me some pointers on how exactly to do that? I mean, let’s say there is something you don’t want to think about, but you just can’t help it. How do you stop yourself from thinking about it?” Snape stared at Harry in silence. Harry shifted uncomfortably. “Uh sir?”

“Tell me Potter,” Snape began, “Why isn’t that you cannot ask questions like these in class? Or, I don’t know, perhaps two months ago when we began lessons?” Harry shrugged. Snape sighed. “There are many ways. But I can only tell you what works for me.” Snape stood up and walked around to sit next to Harry. “I find it is useful to organize your mind. You can choose how. Boxes, doors, a maze, a library, whatever please you. You can keep like memories together or you can simply lock away the ones you don’t want to remember or want others to see. Take the memories you want to hide and lock them away where no one can find them.”

“So…” Harry pondered, “let’s say there were things I wanted to hide from myself, it would be like having a restricted section in the library?”

“Preciously Potter,” Snape said. “It seems perhaps it is possible to penetrate that thick skull with knowledge.”

Harry rolled his eyes again. “So like, when you go in front of Voldemort, you lock away the things you don’t want him to see behind a door or something.”

“That is a little different,” Snape said. “The Dark Lord is a master legilimens. When I am in front of him, I can’t just hide things behind doors. I also have to hide the doors. A truly skilled legilimens can tell if you are trying to hide something. This normally isn’t an issue, so long as they can’t access what you are hiding. For you, the hiding would be sufficient.”

Harry thought about that for a moment. “So if he knew you were hiding something, what would he do?”

“Use your imagination.”

Harry didn’t say anything. He wasn’t sure what to say. He knew enough about Voldemort to know the kind of punishment he would go for. The sudden realization of just how much danger Snape was putting himself in for the cause, for him, was a bit much.

“Thank you sir,” Harry said, standing up to leave. “For everything,” he added.

Snape nodded and headed back to his desk. Harry left the dungeons and decided to make his way to the astronomy tower. He wanted some peace and quiet to try out his new technique. Luckily, the tower was devoid of people, blond or otherwise. Harry sat down and concentrated on hiding the things he didn’t want to think about—chiefly Malfoy. One by one, Harry took the moments from the previous few weeks and stuffed them into a chest. He piled them one on top of the other until every last one was gone. Then, he locked the chest and placed the key on a shelf. He was sure he wouldn’t need it again, but you could never be too careful.

Harry continued to concentrate on this idea for several minutes, making sure it took. When he finally got up to exit the tower, the fog that had hovered over him all week was gone. He could finally concentrate on the here and now.

He made his way back to the dorm, where he and his friends decided to take a night off from homework and just enjoy themselves for once. They joked and laughed and played games. When Harry went to sleep that night, he felt better than he had in weeks. It was as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. He cleared his mind without issue, and when he drifted off to sleep, he had pleasant dreams, devoid of blonds, all night.

***

Saturday morning presented a nice clear day. Harry and the others cheerfully made their way through breakfast and headed out to the grounds. As they made their way to Hogsmeade, Harry realized he didn’t know where they were going.

“Hermione where are we meeting exactly?” Harry asked.

“A place called the Hog’s Head,” Hermione answered.

“The Hog’s Head?”

“Yes,” he said. “It’s similar to the Three Broomsticks, only less popular and a bit off the beaten track.”

“Then why not just meet at the Three Broomsticks?” Ron asked.

“Too crowded,” she answered. “This is supposed to be a secret remember?”

“Whatever,” Ron said. “You’re the smart one.”

When they arrived at Hogsmeade, they spent some time shopping to, as Hermione put it, avoid suspicion. After about an hour, Hermione said it was time and in groups of twos and threes they made their way to the Hog’s Head. They were the first to arrive. They ordered butterbeers in dirty glasses from a suspicious old bartender. They set themselves up by the fireplace and waited for the rest to arrive. Within 20 minutes, the room was full. The poor bartender looked as if he had never seen so many people in his establishment at one time. When it appeared that everyone had arrived, Hermione stood up.

“So, uh, welcome everyone,” Hermione began. “So, we all know why we are here. With Umbridge as our professor we aren’t receiving proper instruction. This is bad enough with our exams to consider, but…well it’s even worse when we consider what else is out there.”

“Oh yeah, and what exactly is out there?” shouted a Ravenclaw boy.

“Well, Voldemort,” said Hermione. She quickly glanced at Harry.

“So he says,” the boy hit back.

Hermione opened her mouth to respond, but Harry beat her to it. He stood up and looked the Ravenclaw boy right in the eye.

“Yes, so I say,” Harry said. “And if you don’t believe me, then why are you here?”

“Well, you know,” piped up a Hufflepuff girl. Harry swiveled around to look at her. “Maybe if you told us more about what happened last year? In the maze, with Cedric and all.”

Harry clenched his fists. “I am not talking about Cedric. So if that is what you came for you can leave.”

“Well how do we know you’re telling the truth?” the Ravenclaw boy asked.

“How would you know I’m telling the truth even if I told you every detail of that night?” The crowd looked around anxiously. “You wouldn’t. That’s how. So either you believe me or you don’t. But regardless of what you believe, Voldemort is out there. And when you don’t believe, you don’t prepare. And that’s how he wins. He wins when we are too busy fighting each other to fight him.”

“And you really think you can help us prepare to fight him?” the boy asked.

“Well, you know I’ve done it once or twice,” Harry said. He smirked as several people laughed and the boy blushed bright red. Harry surveyed the crowd. “Now, I’m not pretending to be an expert. There are spells I don’t know and things I can’t do. Some of you are even older than I am. But what I do know that you all don’t is what it feels like to face Voldemort. Again, if I’m being honest, a lot of the times I faced him, I had help. And a whole lot of sheer dumb luck. But the feeling of being moments away from death, or watching your friends die, I know what that’s like. Knowing the spells is only half the fight. You have to be ready. Be strong. Keep your wits. That’s what I can show you that someone else couldn’t.”

By the time Harry had finished, most of the crowd looked rather impressed. He turned and looked to Hermione for a signal on what to do next.

“I think we should have a name for ourselves,” Hermione suggested.

“How about Potter’s Army?” Fred suggested. Harry grimaced at the suggestion.

“What about Dumbledore’s Army?” Neville suggested. “You know, because that’s why we got landed with Umbridge right?” He looked at Hermione who nodded her head. “That’s what the ministry’s afraid of right?”

“That’s right Neville,” Harry said. “I like it. Dumbledore’s Army.” He looked at Hermione. “What next?”

“Everyone who wants to join should sign this parchment,” she said. “I’ve charmed it, so if anyone who signs blabs, well, let’s just say they’ll regret it. Once we have a meeting place and time, we’ll get word out to everyone who signed up.”

Everyone who was there signed their names. Many told Harry they were looking forward to it. After Cho signed her name, Harry saw her tell her friends to go on as she hung back. He headed away from the sign in sheet to go talk to her.

“Hey,” he said. He gestured to the diminishing crowd. “Good turnout huh?”

“Sure is,” Cho said. “But I could have told you it would be.” She laughed. “More people believe you than you realize. Those few naysayers are just that: few.”

Harry shrugged. “A good number signed up that’s for sure.” He looked over and saw his friends were almost done. “Hey do you have plans for the rest of the day?”

“Oh well, I mean, my friends are somewhere,” she said. “But not really.”

“Well, um, if you want, you can hang out with me and my friends,” he suggested.

“That sounds great Harry,” Cho said with a smile. “I’d love to.”

Harry, Cho, Hermione, Ron, and Neville spent the remainder of their day hanging around Hogsmeade. They hit some shops, enjoy the sights, and got butterbeers (in clean glasses) from the Three Broomsticks. It felt a bit strange to Harry. Not bad per se, but it was as if Cho and his friends just didn’t quite click. There were far too many awkward silences, and it certainly didn’t help when Ron attacked her choice of quidditch teams. Harry still liked her, but could he really be with someone who didn’t get along with his friends? Maybe it will get better in time, he thought. As they made their way back to the castle from the Three Broomsticks to head back to the castle, Harry realized he had forgotten his scarf.

“Hey guys, I’m going to head back to grab my scarf,” he said. “I’ll meet you all back at the castle.”

“Okay Harry, we’ll be in the Great Hall,” said Neville.

“It was nice to see you Harry,” said Cho.

“We’ll have to do it again soon,” Harry said, ignoring the smirks from his friends. “Later guys.” Harry turned and headed back to the pub. As he made it to the alleyway right next to the pub, a hand shot out and yanked him into it. “Oi! What the hell!?” He turned to see who had dragged him into an alley and came face to face with Malfoy. Instinct made him reach for his wand, but Malfoy stopped him before he could.

“Don’t,” he said. “You won’t need that.” Malfoy held out Harry’s scarf. Harry snatched it back.

“Why should I trust you? And how did you get that anyway?”

“You have in the past,” Malfoy said. As soon as the words left Malfoy’s mouth, the box in Harry’s head burst open and every moment with Malfoy that had happened this year came rushing to the forefront of his mind. He was barely able to stop himself from reeling over from it. He looked up at the blond and had to resolutely remind himself: he did not like blokes. “And I took it. I wanted to speak with you.”

“Just tell me what you want,” Harry said through clenched teeth.

“She knows,” Malfoy said quietly. “Or she will. Umbridge. She knows you lot were up to something. She has spies all over the village. Whatever it is you’re planning, she knows.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Harry asked.

“I’m not sure,” Malfoy said. “I shouldn’t be.”

“Then why are you!” Harry yelled.

“Shush!” Malfoy said. He looked around hastily to make sure no one had heard. “Do you want someone to see us?”

“So let me get this straight,” Harry said. “You’re warning me about Umbridge, but you don’t want us to be seen together?”

“Umbridge is awful,” Malfoy said. “I don’t want her to get her hands on you again.”

“Oh how thoughtful,” Harry said. “You know who else is awful? Voldemort.” Malfoy flinched at the name. “And you want to know who else is awful? Death eaters! Oh wait, isn’t your daddy one of those!”

“Shut up!” Malfoy said, blinking rapidly.

_I must not tell lies._

“Well it’s the truth isn’t it?” Harry insisted.

“Yes,” Malfoy said quietly. “So where does that leave us?”

“Exactly where we’ve always been,” Harry said, chest heaving. “I think it’s time you slithered off to wherever it is death eater’s sons spend their time.”

“So the past few weeks mean nothing?” Malfoy asked.

_I must not tell lies._

Harry stood in silence, struggling with himself. “Bugger off Malfoy,” he finally managed before turning on his heel and stomping off. He didn’t look back, even though part of him wanted to, whether he wanted to admit it or not.

_I must not tell lies._

It wasn’t a lie, Harry insisted to himself. I don’t want to look back. I don’t want to be with Malfoy.

When Harry made it back to the grounds, he paused under a tree before heading inside the castle. He sat down in the shade and put his head in his hands and focused. He took all those escaped memories and piled them back inside the box one by one, adding the newest one on top.

And when he was finished, he locked that damn box with a deadbolt and threw the key into the abyss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realize I forgot to include the Dumbledore’s army conversation earlier in the story that led to this. Let’s just pretend it’s there okay! Also, I know this one is a little shorter than normal. I had several stacks of papers to grade these past few weeks.


	14. Chapter 14: Girls, Boys, and Forgiveness Part 1

The following day continue to be bright and beautiful. However, Harry and the others realized they could not put off their homework like they had Friday evening. To compromise, they placed themselves out on the grounds in the shade of a group of trees. They made good progress, though none of them, except perhaps Hermione, would have said it was enjoyable.

After a while, Harry found himself people watching the others who had also chosen to take advantage of the good weather. Most of the older students were mimicking Harry and his friends by doing their homework outside. Others were playing games or simply hanging out with friends. Eventually, Harry’s eyes were drawn to a young couple walking around the grounds hand-in-hand. They were so lost in each other that they barely seemed to notice anyone else.

Hermione must have seen him staring, because it wasn’t long before she spoke up: “So, Harry, what is your status with Cho?”

Ron and Neville immediately stopped what they were doing to pay attention to the conversation. Harry blushed, but rather than try and dodge the question, he truly tried to figure out how to answer her. The problem was, he really didn’t know how to answer. Where did things stand with Cho? How did he really feel about her?

“Uhh, earth to Harry,” Hermione said.

“I’m thinking, I’m thinking,” Harry said with a sigh. “Truth is Hermione, I don’t know.” Hermione raised her eyebrows at him.

“Don’t you like her?” Neville asked.

“Well, yes of course,” Harry said. “I just…well I don’t…it’s complicated.”

“Well, do you like her as a friend or as more than a friend?” Hermione clarified.

“Well would I be doing all of this if I didn’t like her as more than a friend?” Harry asked.

“I don’t know. Would you?”

“Of course n…” _I must not tell lies._ Harry sighed. “Maybe.”

“What do you mean maybe?” Ron asked looking confused. “Are you saying you don’t like her as more than a friend?”

“Honestly guys, I genuinely don’t know anymore,” Harry admitted. “I think she’s really pretty, and smart, and fun to be around, but I honestly don’t know if I want it to go anywhere. I mean, I can think all of those things about a friend can’t I?” Harry looked to Hermione for help, and she nodded her head.

“You have a point Harry,” Hermione said. “But we can’t tell you how you feel.”

Harry sighed again. “I know.” He turned to stare back at the couple holding hands. “I definitely do feel something. Being around her makes me nervous, but I also like it.” He absentmindedly pulled some grass. “She didn’t seem to click with you guys yesterday.”

“Well I wasn’t going to be the one to say it,” Ron said with a smirk. All three of the others shoved him.

“Okay, okay,” Harry said. “But maybe she just needs to spend more time with us?”

“Maybe,” Hermione agreed. “In the end though Harry, you have to decide how you feel. You can’t just lead her around. I’m not privy to Cho’s inner thoughts or anything, but it certainly seems like she likes you as more than a friend. If you don’t feel the same, I think you need to decide soon and tell her.”

“I know. I know.” Great, thought Harry; as if I don’t have enough on my plate already.

The following morning, Harry, Ron, and Neville made their way down to the common room to notice a large group of students clustered around a new notice.

“I wonder what that is,” Neville said. “Can you see it Ron.” Ron, being the tallest, read the sign over everyone’s heads.

“Bloody hell,” he exclaimed.

“What?” Harry asked.

“It’s one of the High Inquisitor’s educational decrees,” he said. “It says that all groups or teams need to get permission to meet from Umbridge.”

“Shit,” Harry said, remembering Malfoy’s warning. “She knows.”

“But how?” Neville asked.

“It doesn’t matter,” Harry answered. “She knows.”

“Who knows what?” Hermione asked as she approached the group. Harry explained what the new notice said.

“Who do you think blabbed?” Ron asked.

“Well, that parchment was jinxed, so if it was anyone who signed, we’ll know,” Hermione said.

“How?”

“Trust me,” Hermione insisted. “We’ll know.”

At that moment, Fred, George, and Lee approached the group. “Hey guys, I guess you saw the notice,” said Fred. “What’s the plan?”

“We do it anyway, of course,” Harry answered. “It’s not like what we were planning wasn’t against the rules from the start.”

“True,” Ron said.

“Help spread the word guys,” Harry said. “Let people know we’re still looking for a place to meet.”

“Got it Harry,” George said and the group departed. Harry and the others followed them to the Great Hall.

Just as they made it inside, Angelina came running up to them. “Hey Angelina, the meetings are still…”

“I’m not worried about that,” Angelina puffed out. “She means quidditch too!”

“What!?” Harry and Ron both exclaimed.

“You saw the notice,” Angelina said. “It said teams to.”

“Bloody hell,” Ron said.

“I’m begging you Harry,” Angelina said. “Please, please, please don’t get on Umbridge’s bad side.”

“Of course, Angelina,” Harry said. “I’ll be on my best behavior. Promise.” As Harry ate his breakfast, he felt a pair of eyes on him. He glanced up to the other end of the hall, and noticed that none other than Malfoy was staring at him. Very subtly, the blond tilted his head towards the door. Harry knew what Malfoy wanted, but he wasn’t getting it. Harry turned his attention back to his food, and though he felt Malfoy’s eyes stay on him, he stubbornly refused to meet them.

After breakfast, Harry and the others made their way to Binn’s class for History of Magic. As they were not paying attention to Binn’s lecture, Harry suddenly became aware of a tapping noise. Hermione quickly nudged him.

“Harry look,” Hermione whispered gesturing to the window. Harry looked up and saw Hedwig staring at him through the glass. Harry noticed that most of the class was paying attention to his owl rather than Binns. Harry quickly glanced at his professor before crouching down and sneaking his way to the window. He expected Hedwig to give him her letter and fly off, but instead she jumped on his shoulder. He creeped his way back to his seat, and inspected his owl.

“Something looks wrong Harry,” Hermione whispered. “Where is she coming from?”

“I think she’s hurt,” Harry responded. “I’m not sure. I hadn’t sent her anywhere. She must have gone on her own.” He picked the scroll from her leg and read the scrawled message: _We need to talk. Tonight. _“That’s Sirius’ handwriting.” He inspected his owl’s wing. “I need to get Hedwig checked out.” He looked up at his professor and raised his voice. “Professor Binns, I don’t feel good. I need to go to the hospital wing.”

Harry didn’t wait until Binns had finished murmuring something about allowing “Perkins” to leave before he was making his way out the room. He glanced out the window and didn’t see a group of students near Hagrid’s hut. Harry figured with him gone, Grubbly-Plank was the next best option. He didn’t know where she would be when she wasn’t teaching, so he decided to head to the professor’s lounge. McGonagall answered when he knocked.

“Please don’t tell me you have more detentions Potter,” she said.

“No professor,” he replied. “It’s my owl. I think she’s hurt.”

“A hurt owl you say,” Grubbly-Plank said, appearing behind McGonagall. “Let me see her.” Harry handed his owl over for his professor to examine. “It looks like something must have attacked her. I’m not sure what that could have been though. How far has she traveled?”

“London, I think,” Harry said, shooting a glance at McGonagall. When he met her eyes, he knew she understood what he meant.

“I can sort her out alright Mr. Potter,” said Grubbly-Plank. “However, she shouldn’t be flying long distances for a few days.”

“Yes ma’am,” Harry said. “Thank you.” Harry turned to leave as Grubbly-Plank headed back inside the staffroom, but he was stopped by McGonagall.

“Bear in mind,” she said, quickly looking around to make sure they were alone. “That channels of communication in and out of Hogwarts may be being watched, won’t you?”

“Umm,” Harry said. “Yes ma’am.”

Harry met his friends as they made their way down to potions and caught them up on Hedwig’s state and his conversations with the professors.

“Harry,” Hermione began gingerly, “Do you think someone is trying to intercept your mail?”

“Well, it certainly wouldn’t be the strangest thing that’s happened to me,” Harry admitted. “I’m sure they were disappointed. There’s no indication of who wrote this letter or when and where they want to meet.”

“Still,” Hermione said. “I would be careful how you communicate with Sirius.”

“Well, I’ve been communicating with him via the mirror,” Harry said. “But last time we spoke we fought, and it isn’t like he can just start talking to me any time he wants, not knowing who I’m with. I guess he was getting desperate.”

“Well, stop fighting with him,” Hermione insisted. “Umbridge is finding things out already, we don’t need here to privy to your conversations with Sirius, or the connection at all.”

“I know, I know,” Harry said with a sigh. They were quiet the rest of the way down as they all contemplated the implications of someone reading Harry’s mail. As they approached Snape’s classroom, they could see that the Slytherins had already arrived. None other than Draco Malfoy was standing front and center and as soon as he made eye contact with Harry, he began waving around an official-looking piece of parchment and talking loud enough for Harry to hear.

“Well obviously Umbridge gave the Slytherin quidditch team permission immediately. I mean, honestly it was no question.” Malfoy paused just long enough to make sure Harry was still paying attention. Harry rolled his eyes, but it didn’t matter. Malfoy had what he wanted. “Of course, she knows my father from the ministry. And of course she absolutely trusts the Slytherins. It’ll be interesting to see whether Gryffindor are allowed to keep playing won’t it?”

“Don’t’ react,” Hermione whispered to Harry and Ron. They were both standing stock still with faces set and fists clenched. Harry didn’t need the warning. For once, he remembered his promise to stay out of trouble. He also knew that a reaction from him was exactly what Malfoy wanted. This was revenge for ignoring him at breakfast.

“I mean,” continued Malfoy, “it would probably be a blessing for them. It isn’t like they have a chance with their disaster of a team anyway. Have any of you seen Weasley flailing about out there!?” The Slytherins cackled with laughter and Harry had to grab Ron to make sure he didn’t try anything. He gave his friend a look that said: _I know. But don’t rise to it. _Malfoy seemed displeased that Harry still hadn’t reacted the way he wanted. “And as for Potter, my father says it’s only a matter of time before the ministry has him carried him off to St. Mungo’s. I hear they have a special ward for people whose brains have been addled by magic…” Malfoy followed his speech with an incredibly rude impersonation of a mad person.

Next thing Harry knew, something collided with his shoulder knocking him to the side. He quickly realized that something was Neville charging straight at Malfoy. Harry had just enough time to see the fear and shock flick across Malfoy’s face before he turned his full attention to holding Neville back. It took everything he and Ron had to stop Neville from attacking the blond, who was now flocked by his security guards. Naturally, this is how Snape found them, but Harry would much rather lose house points than have his best friend beat to a pulp.

“What in the bloody hell was that about?” Harry angrily whispered to Neville as they trudged inside.

“S’not funny…St. Mungo’s,” Neville muttered back. Suddenly, Harry remembered what he had learned the previous year about Neville’s parents and completely understood what had spurred his anger.

Harry sighed and pat Neville on the back. “No it wasn’t,” he agreed. “We’ll talk later yeah?” Neville nodded quietly, and they all moved to their seats.

Of course, because Harry was supposed to stay off of Umbridge’s bad side, she just had to be observing that day’s class. Before this year, Harry would have told you he was unsure of who he wanted to prevail. But Umbridge’s inherent nastiness and his new understanding of Snape had him rooting for his potion’s professor. The combination of not wanting to make Snape look bad and not wanting to piss off Umbridge had him paying extra close attention to his potion. He even remembered his promise to help Neville this year, and helped to make sure his friend stayed on track.

Despite his determination to do a good job, he couldn’t help but being a bit distracted when Umbridge got to her feet. She interrogated Snape about his tenure at Hogwarts. Despite growing closer to his potions professor these past couple months, years of hatred couldn’t be smothered. Harry took some satisfaction in seeing Snape quietly seethe at Umbridge’s nitpicking. Until of course, Snape turned to him to critique his potion. The last few minutes of distraction had made sure that his potion was not where it was meant to be, though it certainly was better than most of the class.

Snape raised his eyebrow, clearly displeased that he couldn’t completely rip Harry’s potion apart, and obviously also remembering his promise. “Perhaps one of these days Potter, your simple brain will be able to focus long enough to accurately complete a potion. You will write me an essay on the correct composition of this potion, indicating how and why you went wrong, to be handed in next lesson, do you understand me?”

“Yes,” Harry said angrily, but at the same time understanding that Snape was only acting for the Slytherins and Umbridge. Plus, he firmly intended to stick a few subtle digs at Umbridge in his essay. That may also be due to the smug smirk Umbridge aimed his way after seeing Snape critique his work.

The only noteworthy thing that happened in his remaining classes was discovering Trelawney’s probation. It wasn’t until after defense, where Harry was the perfect student thank you very much, that Harry could finally talk to Neville. He pulled his friend aside into an empty classroom and motioned for the others to continue.

“I just wanted to say Neville, that I understand,” he said quietly, unsure how to start.

“I don’t know that you do Harry,” Neville said, refusing to make eye contact.

Harry took a deep breath. “Look, Neville. I know what happened to your parents.” Neville looked up in surprise. “It’s a complicated story, so I won’t get into it, but I found out last year. I haven’t told anyone, and I don’t plan too. I just want to say, that I know our stories are different, but I lost my parents to tragedy too. It’s not fair, and it certainly isn’t funny when people joke about it. I just want you to know that if you ever need someone to talk too, I am here.”

Neville had teared up while Harry spoke. “Wow Harry. Thanks.” He looked at his feet. “It’s just, people tell me how amazing they were, and it just feels like I’ll never measure up. I feel like I’m a big disappointment, especially to my grandmother. And it hurts to hear people make jokes like that. I’m certain Malfoy knows too.”

“I know Neville. I understand. And hey, Sirius knew them, maybe he could tell you some fun stories sometime. I don’t know about you, but it makes me feel better to hear what they were like…minus the comparisons of course.”

Neville smiled at him. “I think I would like that,” he said.

Harry smiled back. “Come on. Let’s go get some dinner.”

At dinner, they discovered that Umbridge was delighting in holding off permission to reform the Gryffindor Quidditch team, so it was with heavy hearts that they trudged off to the common room to complete homework and wait for the opportunity to speak with Sirius.

The group claimed a table in the corner of the common room and spread out to do their homework. To say Harry was displeased with extra homework and no quidditch practice was an understatement. It didn’t help that Fred and George were selling some of their perfected Skiving Snackboxes and causing a great deal of ruckus in demonstrating them. Eventually, as the night wore on, the rest of the students slowly trickled up into their dorms. Harry and his friends kept their books and notes out as a reason for the others to believe they were still hanging around. Although, Hermione was the only one still truly still working on homework.

Eventually, they were left alone. After waiting a few more minutes to make sure no one was making a surprise return, Harry got out his two-way mirror to let Sirius know he was available to talk.

“Well hello everyone,” Sirius greeted when he finally appeared in the mirror. “How are things going?”

“Ugh, not great,” said Harry. “The Ministry’s forced through another decree, which means we’re not allow to have quidditch teams—“

“—or secret defense groups?” said Sirius.

The group looked at one another in shock. “How did you know about that?” Harry demanded.

“You need to choose your meeting places more carefully,” Sirius answered with a grin. “The Hog’s Head, I mean really.”

“Well the Three Broomsticks is always full of people!” Hermione exclaimed.

“Which means you would have been harder to overhear,” said Sirius.

“Who overheard us?” Harry asked.

“Mundungus,” said Sirius. “He was disguised as an old witch.”

“Why?” Harry demanded. “What was he doing?”

Sirius sighed. “Keeping an eye on you.”

“Seriously?” Harry asked, growing angry.

“I’m always serious,” Sirius said with a cheeky grin. It swiftly faded when he saw that Harry was not amused. “Look, I know how that sounds Harry, but we’re just making sure you stay safe. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, but you haven’t exactly been speaking to me lately.”

Harry sighed and relented. “Yeah, yeah. I suppose you have a point. So I suppose you’re here to tell us not to go through with this?”

“What? Are you mad?” Sirius exclaimed. “I think it’s a brilliant idea!”

“You do?” Harry said.

“Absolutely,” Sirius said. “Though, Ron if your mother asked I properly chastised you all and advised against it.” Everyone but Hermione laughed. Sirius noticed her doubt. “Look, Hermione, what you guys are doing was always against the rules. There’s always risk. But what is more important, following rules or being prepared to face what’s out there?”

Hermione nodded. “You’re right,” she said. “I know that.”

“Just be more careful when you guys chose to meet up,” Sirius advised.

“Will do,” Harry replied. “Speaking of, do you know anywhere we might be able to meet to practice?”

“Well, how about…”

As Sirius was speaking, they heard the tell-tale sound of the portrait opening, and Harry quickly put his mirror back in his bag. When he looked up, McGonagall was entering the common room, followed by none other than Umbridge herself. The group looked at each other uneasily.

“There Dolores,” McGonagall said. “They are right where they are supposed to be and working on homework at that.”

Umbridge surveyed the group suspiciously. She then surveyed the rest of the room as though looking for something.

“Um, can we help you professors?” Hermione asked.

“Professor Umbridge seemed to believe that you all were up to no good, and would not—” she shot and annoyed look at their High Inquisitor—“let it go until she saw for herself. Well, Dolores are you satisfied now?”

“Are we certain that nothing is amiss here?” Umbridge asked sweetly, observing Harry like a hawk. She glanced around the room again, growing agitated when she came up with nothing.

“Nothing at all professor,” Harry said, staring her dead in the eye. “Unless we aren’t allowed to do homework?”

Umbridge huffed, but said nothing. Without another word, but with one more sweep of the room, she swept herself out of the room.

As soon as she was gone, McGonagall said, “Is there something amiss?”

“No ma’am,” Harry said. The others nodded along.

McGonagall looked as if she didn’t quite believe them, but all she said was, “Best head of to bed then. I’m sure you’ve all made enough progress for tonight.” With that, she too left the room.

“I guess we know who’s been reading your mail,” Neville said.

“Again, I’m not surprised,” Harry said. Harry pulled the mirror out, and filled in Sirius while the others packed up. Sirius once again advised them all to be careful, and that he would pass on any ideas he had for a meeting place.

As they got ready for bed, Harry tried to clear his mind, but all he could focus on was how angry he was that Umbridge was spying on him. He had played it cool for his friends, but he was truly put off by the invasion of privacy. He wasn’t exactly surprised, but still upset. Knowing the Order was still spying on him as well didn’t help.

Harry beat his pillow in frustration and once more tried to focus on clearing his mind. Life was unfair, and he was starting to realize that focusing on anger would get him nowhere. After all, had he spoken to Sirius before Hogsmeade, they would have one less problem to worry about.

Forgiveness was hard. And he wasn’t sure how far he was capable of running with it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: I want to apologize if there are small inconsistencies. Every now and then I make small changes (like not having Harry send a letter to Sirius) and then later on remember that those small things became important (Hedwig getting attacked on her way back). If I had time, I would go back and fix those things, but as a teacher during finals, I don’t have time at all. So I apologize if anyone gets upset over those things.
> 
> The good news is that I had more free time when I wrote this chapter so it is back to the normal word count (actually a little over). The bad news is I still ran out of space to write all the things I was planning for this chapter, so now you have to wait until next week for the juicy bits! Yay for parts!


	15. Chapter 15: Girls, Boys, & Forgiveness Part 2

The following day saw an end to the delightful weather. A storm appeared to be raging outside. It made Angelina’s news of permission from Umbridge bittersweet. On the one hand, it was wonderful to know that they could play quidditch again, but having to practice in the downpour almost made Harry wish he was doing homework by the warm fire instead. Almost.

As Harry flew up into the sky, he couldn’t help but think about Malfoy. He couldn’t separate quidditch from the blond at the moment, and as much as he didn’t want to, he wondered what Malfoy had wanted to tell him the previous morning. He forced himself to push it down and focus on the practice. Harry couldn’t tell you how practice went because he couldn’t quite see his own teammates, much less the snitch. In the end, they all trudged, rather disgruntled, back to the locker rooms in a moody silence. As he was toweling his hair, the scar on his forehead seared with a blinding pain.

“OUCH!” Harry exclaimed as he pressed the towel to his face.

“What’s up?” asked several voices.

When Harry looked up, everyone was staring at him. “Nothing,” he muttered, making eye contact with Ron. “Just poked myself in the eye.”

Ron hung back as the others left. “Was it your scar?” Harry nodded. Ron looked around hastily. “But, he can’t be nearby can he?”

“No,” Harry said shaking his head. “It hurt because…he’s…angry.” The words came out on their own, but the minute they did he knew they were true.

“How do you know?” Ron asked. “Did you see him? Have a vision?”

“No,” Harry answered. “Not exactly. It was a blur of shapes and sounds, but…he wants something done, and it’s not happening fast enough.”

“How do you know?”

Harry sighed. “I don’t know. It must be the connection.” Harry groaned as a realization hit him. “I’ll have to go to Snape with this.” He grimaced. “Great. I was hoping we could put off the next lesson.”

“Was he angry last time?” Ron asked. “With Umbridge?”

Harry thought back to that night, and realized his own feelings of anger and resentment had kept him from recognizing what he was feeling. “No, last time…last time he was pleased.”

“Are you sure you’re not good at divination?”

Harry through his towel at him. “Haha, very funny.”

“You should tell Dumbledore about this.”

Harry shot him a glare as he got up. “Really Ron?”

“Look mate, I know he messed up over the summer, but he’s still Dumbledore.”

“Yeah, which means I can’t trust him anymore right now than I could then,” Harry said angrily. As they slipped and stumbled their way to the castle, Harry thought about what he had discovered. What did Voldemort want that he wasn’t getting? He remembered what Sirius had told him over the summer, about Voldemort seeking some kind of weapon. But what was it? He made a mental note to ask Sirius about it. Perhaps with his new knowledge he could make Sirius tell him.

When they returned to the common room, Harry bid Ron goodnight and set to finishing his potions essay. If he was going to speak to Snape, he may as well put him in a decent mood by completing his work. Midnight came and went, and Harry found himself drifting off to sleep while attempting to re-read the same paragraph for the umpteenth time.

_Suddenly, he was in the all too familiar corridor. His footsteps echoed in the silence, but when he looked down at them, he knew they were not his feet. He looked back at the door and was filled with excitement. If only he could enter it._

Just as he was about to touch the door, he was woken with the words “Harry Potter, sir!” Harry started, and quickly looked around for the voice.

“Dobby has your owl, sir!” said a squeaky voice.

“Dobby?” he asked, still trying to fully wake up. He looked down towards the voice and saw Dobby standing there with Hedwig balancing on his head.

“Dobby volunteered to return Harry Potter’s owl!” said the elf, looking at Harry adoringly. Hedwig gave a hoot and fluttered to the arm of Harry’s chair.

“Thanks Dobby! How are you?”

“Dobby is good Harry Potter,” Dobby said cheerfully. “But Harry Potter does not seem happy. He was muttering in his sleep. Was Harry Potter having bad dreams?”

“I’ve had worse.”

“Dobby wishes he could help Harry Potter,” he said seriously.

“You can’t help Dobby,” Harry said with a smile. “But I appreciate the offer.”

“Anything Harry Potter needs, he just has to tell Dobby and Dobby will be there to help.”

“Wait a minute, there is something I could use some help with.

“Name it, Harry Potter, sir!”

“I need a place where around 30 people can practice defense against the dark arts without being discovered by any of the teachers. Especially, Professor Umbridge.” Dobby gave a little skip, his ears waggling happily, and clapped his hands together.

“Dobby knows the perfect place sir!” he said happily. It is known as the Come and Go Room, or else as the Room of Requirement!”

“Why?” asked Harry

“Because it is a room that a person can only enter when they have real need of it. Sometimes it is there, sometimes it is not, but when it is there, it is always equipped for the seeker’s needs. Dobby has used it for Winky sir. Very few people know about it. Most stumble across it and never find it again!”

“That sounds perfect Dobby!” Harry. Dobby told Harry where to find the room and how to get in, and Harry could not wait to tell the others. The following day, he, Ron, Neville, and Hermione spread the word that their first meeting would be that night and how to find the place.

They arrived early, to get a good look at the place before anyone else. What they found was perfect. There were useful books, cushions, and instruments such as Sneakoscopes and secrecy sensors. Hermione quickly grabbed a book and sat down to read while the boys examined the instruments. Then, as the others started to arrive, Harry gave orders on how he wanted the room set up. Once everyone was there, Harry explained what the room was and to be careful when they came and went. No one wanted a teacher to find them.

“Right,” Harry said after explanations were through and everyone was settled in. “I was thinking, that seeing as we’re all in different years and at different levels, we would start at the beginning. I think the first thing we should practice is Expelliarmus, the disarming charm. I know it’s basic, but I’ve found it especially useful…”

“Oh please,” said Zacharias Smith, rolling his eyes. “I don’t think Expelliarmus is going to help us against You-Know-Who, do you?”

“I’ve used it against him,” Harry said quietly, but firmly. “It saved my life last year in the cemetery.”

Smith blushed in embarrassment and the rest of the room was deadly quiet.

“Like I said, I know it’s basic,’ Harry continued. “But it is extremely useful. Your opponent can’t fire a killing curse at you if they don’t have a wand. If you do ever find yourself in a situation facing Death Eaters, they will likely know deadlier spells than you, but that won’t help them if they are wandless.” Harry stopped and looked at Smith. “But if you think it is beneath you, you can leave.” Smith didn’t move, and neither did anyone else. “Okay then, I reckon we should all divide into pairs and practice.”

It was odd giving instructions, and odder still to see them following so easily. As the group divided themselves, Harry noticed Neville was without a partner.

“You can partner with me Neville,” Harry said. “Just wait after this first round. I want to see what happens.”

“Sure thing Harry,” Neville said quietly.

“Ready everyone! On the count of three. One, two, three!” The room filled with shouts. Wands flew in all directions, for those who managed the spell anyway. Many had not, merely causing their partners to jump backwards a bit. “See Neville,” Harry whispered, “these guys aren’t any better than you.” Harry looked at Ron and Hermione. “Hey guys, let Neville join you so I can walk around.” He raised his voice. “Alright everyone, if you lost your wand go get it. We’re going to keep trying.”

Harry moved around the room, offering corrections and advice. Slowly everyone improved. Cho did well until Harry walked past her. Harry assured her he had seen her perform the spell just fine a few minutes earlier. As he walked away, he reflected on the idea that he obviously made her nervous. Hermione was right, he needed to figure out what he wanted to do. As he continued to survey the room, he noticed that Neville had still not managed the spell.

“Neville, what’s up?” Harry asked approaching him. “You did it just fine the other night.”

“He did?” Hermione asked in surprise. Harry shot her a look.

“I know,” Neville said quietly. “But it’s so much harder when everyone’s here. I know they all expect me to fail.”

“Oh Neville,” piped in Luna. “Don’t you remember what Harry said?” Neville looked up at her. “It doesn’t matter what they believe, only what you believe.”

Harry smiled at her. “Thanks Luna.” He turned to Neville. “That’s exactly right Neville. It only matters if you believe you can do this. Do you?” Instead of answering Neville squared his shoulders and looked back towards Hermione, who got into position. Harry counted them off and on the count of three, Neville should “Expelliarmus!” and Hermione’s wand flew out of her hand. The entire room was stunned into silence. Harry patted Neville on the back. “Told you so.”

Neville was beaming. “Thanks Harry!”

“Hey Harry,” said Hermione. “Have you checked the time?”

Harry looked at his watch. “Bloody hell, it’s nearly curfew.” He looked around. “Uhh, let’s say same time next week yeah?” Everyone nodded. Harry checked the map to make sure no one was around and told the group to start leaving in twos and threes. As he was walking around picking up cushions, he was startled by a voice.

“Need some help?” asked Cho.

“Oh, uh…yeah sure,” Harry said uncertainly. “So, uh, what did you think?”

“I think you sure put Smith in his place,” she said with a smile.

Harry laughed. “Yeah, he’s getting on my nerves.”

“So, uhh…I guess we won’t see each other until next week?” Cho asked. She was looking down and fiddling with her wand.

At first, Harry wasn’t sure how he was meant to respond. He saw Hermione in the background giving him a pointed look, and suddenly he realized that Cho was waiting for him to ask her out again. It was in that moment, as he tried to hide his panic, that he realized he really didn’t want to.

“Uh, yeah,” Harry said. “Fifth year sucks.” Harry laughed nervously as Cho looked up at him. “I’m so swamped with school work, and Angelina is insistent we practice every spare minute. I’ll be surprised if I can even make the next meeting!”

“Well it would be a shoddy meeting without you,” Cho said with a laugh, but Harry could tell she was disappointed. “See you around then?”

“Yeah, definitely,” Harry said.

Hermione walked up as Cho left. “What was that?” she asked.

“I don’t know Hermione,” Harry answered, running a hand through his hair. “As soon as I realized what she wanted, I just realized I didn’t.” He sighed. “I just don’t know.”

“Well if you don’t figure it out, someone’s going to get hurt,” she said reproachfully.

***

That Saturday night, Harry made his way down to Snape’s office. They did not have another lesson scheduled, but Harry knew he really ought to tell Snape about his latest dream and his new ability to discern Voldemort’s feelings. He hadn’t spoken to Sirius since the night Umbridge almost caught them, but he knew his godfather would tell him he needed to talk to the potions professor. And then Sirius would likely get word to Snape, who would then schedule a lesson. Harry figured this way he saved everyone a bit of time.

So despite how much he would rather be anywhere else, even doing homework, he made his way to the dungeons and knocked on Snape’s door. He heard the ever familiar “enter,” and made his way in. Snape was sitting back in his chair, with a cup of tea in his hands.

“We seem to be making a habit of this Potter,” he said as he placed his cup down on his desk.

Harry sighed and sat down. “I had another dream,” he admitted. “And I’ve been feeling his emotions too.”

Snape raised an eyebrow. “Go on.”

“The dream was the same as always,” Harry said. “I was in the same corridor. Just walking down it and heading for the door at the end. I had almost reached it when I woke up.”

“What woke you up?”

“Dobby.”

“Dobby?”

“He’s a house elf sir,” Harry explained. “He works here at Hogwarts. He was bringing me back my owl.”

“And that is the only one you’ve had since our last meeting?”

“Yes.”

“Alright,” Snape said. “Now tell what you mean when you say you have been feeling the Dark Lord’s emotions.”

“Well, remember when I said that my scar hurt after Umbridge touched me?”

“Yes. I believe we all agreed it was a coincidence.”

“It was,” Harry said. “But it happened again the other day in the quidditch locker room. Afterwards, when Ron questioned me, I realized that my scar hurt because Voldemort was angry. And then I thought back, and realized that when it happened with Umbridge, it was because he was really pleased. I just didn’t realize it because I was so miserable at the time.”

Snape quietly contemplated this new information. He got up and walked around the desk, to sit on its edge in front of Harry.

“That is a bit disconcerting,” Snape admitted. “But at least it appears the Dark Lord is still not aware of the connection.”

“Is it better or worse than the dreams?”

“I would say worse,” Snape said. “While it is certainly possible, hence the lessons on occlumency, controlling your dreams is harder than occluding when you are awake. You are more relaxed and susceptible. However, feeling his emotions this vividly when you are awake is a problem. It certainly proves exactly what we’ve been worried about. If the Dark Lord knows about your connection he could make you see or feel things while you are awake.”

Harry gulped. “Yes I can see how that would be bad.”

Snape stood up and started to move to the other end of the room. “This just proves how important these lessons are. I assume that you coming here means you have the time to practice tonight?”

“Yes, sir,” Harry said.

“Then get ready,” Snape ordered.

Harry stood up and moved to the other end of the room. He got his wand out and quickly tried to clear his head before Snape attacked his mind. He felt a tiny bit more confident today, as he had actually been practicing clearing his mind before bed. It also helped that certain memories were safely locked away.

This time, Harry felt Snape enter his head. He could see a barrage of memories floating by, but it seemed he was in fact making process. He could sense that Snape was trying to settle on one, but Harry was fighting him off. It didn’t last too long; eventually his professor prevailed and caught a memory from Harry’s childhood. He watched Harry be tormented by Dudley while Harry futilely tried to kick him out. When Snape finally left his mind, it was of his own accord.

Harry was left breathing heavily. He tried to catch his breath and prepare himself. Usually Snape gave him little time to prepare for the next attack. But this time was different.

“That was better than usual,” Snape offered.

“Thanks,” Harry muttered.

Snape rolled his eyes. “I know complements are rare between us, but that was the truth,” he said. “You managed to fight me for quite a bit. A less experienced Occlumens would have given up.”

“You didn’t.”

“Neither will the Dark Lord,” Snape retorted. He paused for a moment, gazing quietly at Harry. “I noticed, that you had a locked box.”

Harry did his best to control his facial expressions. “Well I didn’t come ask you about it out of sheer curiosity.”

“So it has been working?” Snape asked. “The memories you’ve hidden have stayed that way?”

“They didn’t the first time,” Harry answered. “But I made a stronger box and they’ve been fine since.”

“Well let’s see shall we?” Snape said with a smirk.

“What!?” Harry exclaimed. “You can’t!”

“I can.”

“You said having a box was enough!”

Snape rolled his eyes. “I meant in the sense that you don’t have to prevent people from seeing it the way I must prevent the same from the Dark Lord. But you can rest assured if he finds a box in your mind he will certainly try to open it. Prepare yourself.”

Before Harry could protest, Snape had begun his attack. Harry was exhausted, but he fought even harder to resist Snape this time than he had the first. It was useless. He was already tired from the first attack. It wasn’t long before he had been pushed aside and the box pried open. Every Malfoy memory came flooding back. He was overwhelmed with emotions for a split second, and then the embarrassment took over. How was he going to explain why he had chosen to lock these particular memories away?

Rather than pick one of the many memories, Snape scanned through them all. It was as if Harry wasn’t even trying, and yet he felt he was trying very hard indeed. Once Snape was satisfied he had seen all there was, he pulled out.

“Well it certainly wasn’t strong enough,” Snape said quietly. Harry refused to look at his professor. He could hear Snape start to walk towards him, but he only looked up when he heard the scrape of chairs being pulled across the floor. Snape pushed one towards him and sat down in the other. “Sit.”

Harry did as told. Snape stared at him and he stared at the floor. He was afraid. How could he lie to someone who could read his mind?

“It appears,” Snape finally began, “that you did not take my advice and speak to someone about this issue.”

“There’s nothing to speak about,” Harry said. Even he wasn’t convinced by the words.

“If there was nothing to speak about, you wouldn’t have locked those memories away,” Snape insisted. “You’ve locked them away because you don’t want to think about them, which likely means you also don’t want to think about what they mean.”

“They mean nothing,” Harry insisted.

It was Snape’s turn to sigh. “Look Potter, I really don’t want to have this conversation with you, but seeing as you refuse to talk to someone else—I think you really need to admit that there is a possibility you like Malfoy, not only as a friend, but as more than that.”

“No,” Harry said, shaking his head angrily. “I don’t. I like Cho.”

“No one said you couldn’t like more than one person.”

“I like girls,” Harry clarified.

“No one said you couldn’t like both boys and girls, Potter.”

“Well I don’t.”

Snape sighed again. “Perhaps we could do a little experiment?” Harry looked up in confusion. “I propose, that you allow me into your mind. If you are insistent that you have feelings for Miss Chang, then we can compare your memories with her to your ones with Malfoy.” Harry looked on uncertainly. “Look Potter, you have to face this. It will only get worse if you do. And if you truly don’t like boys, this will only make you feel better.”

“Okay,” Harry finally said. The word came out as barely more than a whisper.

“I’m going to enter your mind now,” Snape said. “Don’t fight me. It will also be helpful if you bring your memories of Miss Chang and Malfoy to the forefront of your mind. Focus on the memories as we go through them. Remember what you felt.”

Harry took a deep breath and did what was asked. Snape entered his mind. It was very different when Harry wasn’t fighting him.

_They started with memories of Cho. Harry saw her on the quidditch pitch for the first time. She was good, but he was wrapped up in the game. She was nothing but competition. Harry saw her numerous times around the castle all fourth year. It was when he really noticed her. _

_ Suddenly they were on the steps of the owlry. Harry was asking her to the ball. He was nervous. But was he nervous because he liked her, or because he had never asked anyone out before?_

_ They were on their date at the quidditch pitch. While they practiced, all he noticed was the thrill of flying. When they chatted, Harry felt nervous, but it was his first date after all. Then, they were waiting to enter the Yule Ball. Cho was with Cedric. Harry felt the sharp stab of jealousy. But he wasn’t looking at Cho when he felt it. He was looking at Cedric._

_ He was in Madam Malkin’s. Malfoy was the first young wizard he met. He was arrogant, but part of Harry wanted to impress him. Various moments through the years flitted by: Malfoy tormenting him and his friends; Malfoy being cruel; Malfoy being arrogant. They were all the same. Until this year. _

_ They were on the astronomy tower. Malfoy had sat across from him. They had talked liked normal people. Like friends. Harry felt the warmth fill his stomach. It felt good to speak to Malfoy._

_ Harry keeps seeing the blond throughout the castle. Every time he does he feels the familiar flutter in his stomach. It’s not because he’s nervous about asking someone to the ball or taking them on a date. It is because he simply sees him, and that makes him nervous._

_ He made Cho nervous just by simply being next to her. Was this the same thing?_

_ They are in the tower again. Malfoy takes his hand. Malfoy’s hand is smooth, and Harry quite likes the feel of it holding his own._

_ They are by the quidditch stands. Malfoy’s face is mere inches from his own and if he just leans forward they would touch. He wants to._

_ He is back in the first D.A. meeting. He knows Cho wants him to ask her out, but he doesn’t. He doesn’t want to._

Suddenly, Harry is back in Snape’s office.

“I believe that is enough,” Snape said. “Don’t you?”

Harry doesn’t respond. His mind is reeling from the memories. From reliving all those moments, and from what he now has to admit.

“Potter,” Snape prodded. “Please tell me you saw what I saw.”

_I must not tell lies._

“I saw,” Harry said quietly.

Snape sighed again. “Potter, I will be honest with you, because someone has to say it. I do not believe you ever had feelings for Miss Chang. I believe you had feelings for Cedric, and because you are young and still figuring yourself out, you simply transferred those feelings to a girl, because as a young boy that is what you feel you are supposed to like. This is probably why Cedric’s death affected you so.” Harry finally looked up at his professor. “Not that what you experienced wouldn’t have affected you otherwise, but loosing someone you have feelings for is harder than just loosing anyone.”

Harry looked down at his hands. “That makes sense,” he admitted.

“I can’t tell you what to do about Malfoy,” Snape said. “I suggest that, now that we have sorted through your feelings, you continue this by talking to someone. _Someone else._” Snape gave Harry a pointed look and Harry snorted.

“I don’t know who to talk to,” Harry said. _I must not tell lies._ “I’m afraid.”

“Your godfather would be a good place to start,” Snape suggested. “If you are afraid of talking to your friends.”

“But…but, what if…” Harry trailed off, unwilling to say the words out loud.

“Your godfather will not love you any less for knowing you are gay Harry,” Snape said. Harry started at the word. Snape raised an eyebrow. “It is what you are Potter. Might as well say it out loud. Black won’t care. And that comes from someone who does not think highly of him.”

“How can you be sure?” Harry asked.

“It would be rather hypocritical of him,” Snape answered.

It was Harry’s turn to raise an eyebrow. “Do you mean…”

“I believe that is a question for him.” Snape stood up and walked away. “I believe that is enough for tonight. Keep practicing. You are getting better.”

Harry got up and made his way to the door. He stopped and looked at his professor. “Thank you,” he said quietly.

Snape gave him a slight nod, and Harry left the room. As he walked back to his common room, his head was spinning. What now? As he was contemplating if he really wanted to talk to Sirius, he got so tangled inside his own head, he lost all sense of where he was. Suddenly, he felt himself collide with a hard object, and next thing he knew, he was on the floor. He looked up and saw Luna laying on the floor opposite of him.

“Bloody hell,” Harry exclaimed. “I’m so sorry Luna. I wasn’t paying attention at all.” Harry quickly got to his feet and helped her up.

“That’s alright Harry,” Luna said kindly. “It looked like you were really concentrating. Lots on your mind?” Suddenly she looked very worried. “Or was it a wrackspurt attack?”

Harry laughed. “No wrackspurts here. Just a lot on my mind.”

“Need some help?” Luna asked.

“No th…” Harry began. He was ready to tell her he was fine, but suddenly, he realized he wanted to speak with her. He wasn’t sure why, but he felt that out of all of his friends, Luna would likely judge him the least. “Actually, could we talk?”

“Of course,” Luna answered. The two walked to a nearby empty classroom and sat down. “What’s bothering you Harry?”

“Well,” Harry said, unsure what to say, or even if he could say what he had to. “The thing is, I’ve been thinking a lot lately…and…and well, trying to work things out.” Luna looked at him patiently. He could tell she was listening intently. It comforted him to know he was being listened to. “I’ve recently come to the conclusion…well, I don’t know if you’ve noticed I’ve grown a bit closer to Cho lately.”

“Oh, yes,” Luna said. “She quite likes you I think.”

Harry ran a hand through his hair. “Yes, well, I thought I quite liked her too,” he said.

Luna smiled softly. “I take it you have decided you don’t?”

“Yes,” Harry said. “And as if that is bad enough, because obviously I’m going to have to find a way to tell her, but I’ve sort of realized I like someone else.” Harry paused here, unsure of how he should continue.

“Would you like to tell me who?” Luna asked. “Or would we prefer we just talked generally speaking?”

“I want to tell you,” Harry said. “I’m just afraid.”

“You don’t have to be,” she said. “But it is your choice.”

Harry took a deep breath. “Malfoy.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Malfoy is the person I like.”

Luna looked confused for a second, and then her face lit up. “Oh I see, you’re either afraid of admitting you like a boy, or you are afraid of admitting you like a Slytherin!”

Harry laughed. He couldn’t help it. He had just devolved what was possibly his biggest secret, and Luna was acting as if he had just told her it was a lovely day outside.

“I suppose it is a bit of both Luna,” Harry said. “But I admit I was a bit more concerned with the boy part.”

“Well you shouldn’t be,” Luna said. “Mum always told me love is love. I don’t really think gender should matter.”

Harry smiled. “You have a wonderful way of comforting people Luna,” he said. “I suppose you have a point. It really is the whole Slytherin thing I should be worried about isn’t it?”

Luna gave a silvery laugh. “He is quite awful at times isn’t he?”

“That’s what I’ve always thought,” Harry responded. “But lately I’ve been noticing a different side to him.”

“So what will you do?” Luna asked.

“I don’t know,” Harry admitted. “Probably muck it up.” Both he and Luna laughed, and despite how much this revelation had shocked Harry, he felt a bit better for having admitted talked to someone. Perhaps Snape was right—not that Harry would ever tell him that of course. “I suppose I will have to talk to him. I can’t be friends with someone who insists on being an arrogant prick, much less date them.”

“Well, if he feels the same,” Luna offered, “he should be willing to work with you. Mum always said people do crazy things for love.” She smiled dreamily at Harry.

“Woah there Luna,” Harry said. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is so much longer than normal! And I still didn’t make it to the Malfoy confrontation. Guess you’ll just have to wait until next week!


	16. Confessions Part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is literally just two conversations! Lol

The following morning, Harry dawdled in the dorm room so that he would be the last one there. He had decided he was going to speak with Sirius. He was still afraid of his godfather’s reaction, but Luna had made him feel a little better about the entire situation. Plus, if he was honest, he was extremely curious as to what Snape had meant by his offhand remark. So after waiting a few minutes to make sure Dean and Seamus were really gone, he pulled out his two-way mirror.

“Sirius,” he called out. “Hey Sirius! You there?”

“Ugh,” he heard Sirius groan from the other end. “Bloody hell I’m coming. Give me a mo’.” Harry heard some shuffling on his godfather’s end. Eventually, a very groggy looking Sirius appeared in the mirror. “Eight a.m. Harry, really?”

“Oh, so one in the morning is a perfectly reasonable time to chat, but breakfast time, that’s asking too much?” Harry asked with a laugh.

“Well, I’m sorry to break it to you Harry, but your godfather is not exactly a functioning adult,” Sirius responded. He offered a rueful smile as Harry laughed. “So,” Sirius paused to position his chin on his hand, “what brings you to me on this fine morning.” He finished with a yawn.

“Uhh, maybe I should check back another time?” Harry asked, still laughing.

“No, no, no,” Sirius insisted. “You don’t get off that easy. Go on, what is so important you have to wake me at this god awful hour?”

“Well…” Harry hesitated, unsure if he actually wanted to admit the truth, now that he had Sirius there. “It’s just…well I’ve been thinking a lot lately…and I may have come to some…sort of…revelation.”

“Revelation?” Sirius asked, raising an eyebrow in confusion.

“Maybe epiphany is the right word?” Harry offered, stalling.

“So what is it about?”

“Umm…relationships…I guess.”

“Oh?” Sirius asked, now at full attention. “Do we like someone?”

“Well, that’s the thing,” Harry said, running a hand through his hair. “I _thought_ I really liked this girl named Cho.”

“Thought?” Sirius asked. “You don’t?”

“Well, I really started noticing her last year,” Harry explained. “I even tried asking her to the ball, but Cedric had beat me to it. And I was upset about it…but now I’ve realized I wasn’t upset for the reason I originally thought.”

“I’m confused,” Sirius said. “It’s too early in the morning for this. Do you like the girl or not Harry?”

“Just as a friend,” Harry said. “You see…I realized that uhm…the reason I was upset…wasn’t because Cho was with Cedric…it…I was upset because…” Harry drifted off.

“Because?”

_I must not tell lies._ Harry took a deep breath. “I was upset because, Cedric was with Cho.” He paused, unsure if his meaning was clear, but unwilling to say more. He watched Sirius. First, his godfather just stared at him in confusion, but after a few seconds a look of realization spread across his face.

“Oh for fuck’s sake Harry,” Sirius said, rolling his eyes. “Are you trying to tell me you’re gay?”

Harry looked at his godfather in disbelief. “You know, I’ve just revealed my deepest secret, a revelation that shocked me to my core. You could take this a little more seriously!”

“I’m always serious,” his godfather replied with a smirk.

“You know what—” Harry exclaimed, motioning as if he was going to put the mirror away.

“Okay, wait, wait,” Sirius yelled. Harry brought the phone back where his godfather could see him. He could tell his godfather was trying to stifle his laughter. “Sorry, sorry. I couldn’t help it. I’m not trying to belittle your epiphany.” He openly laughed this time. “It’s just that the way you were acting it was like this was some world-ending news.”

“Well I happen to think it’s a pretty big deal!” Harry protested.

“It’s not,” Sirius insisted. “Though, I could understand why you feel that way. I’m sorry for reacting the way I did.”

“Speaking of understanding,” Harry said tentatively. “Um…”

“What?”

“Umm..do?” Harry asked. “Understand what it’s like?”

“What it’s like to what?”

“Uh…realize that you might be gay,” Harry finished.

Sirius looked at him in surprise. “How…I didn’t think you realized that.”

“So it’s true?” Harry asked. “You really are gay too?”

“Not exactly,” Sirius said. “I’m what you call bisexual. It means that I enjoy being with both men and women. There’s a lot of good-looking people out there Harry. I don’t see why I should limit myself to only half.”

It was Harry’s turn to laugh. “You’re ridiculous.”

Sirius smirked. “Well, to answer your question, when I was around your age and realized that I liked blokes, I was a bit upset at first. So, yes. I understand why you were scared. But you don’t have to be. I still love you. And for the record, your parents wouldn’t have cared either.”

“Really?” Harry asked.

“Well, considering two of their best friends like blokes, I think it would have been rather hypocritical don’t you think?”

“Two of their friends?” Harry asked. “Who else was gay?”

Sirius got quiet. “Well, Harry it’s not really my place. It should really be that person who tells you.”

“Please Sirius,” Harry begged.

Sirius sighed. “Well, I suppose it isn’t exactly a secret.” He took a deep breath. “Remus is also gay.”

“Really?”

“Yes,” Sirius answered. “And he is “only likes blokes” gay, so he would probably be a good person to speak to when you get the chance.”

“Well, he is certainly more mature,” Harry said with a laugh.

“Hey!”

“Do you deny it?”

“…no,” Sirius admitted. “Mind if I tell him your “revelation?” That way he’ll be prepared when you approach him.”

“Okay,” Harry said. “I guess that’s fair, considering you told me about him.” Suddenly a thought struck Harry. “Wait, are you and Remus…together?”

A pained look came across Sirius’ face. “Not…not exactly.”

“What does that mean?” Harry asked.

“Well…we were together. You know, before.”

“Before my parents died?”

“Yeah,” Sirius said quietly. “Before Azkaban.”

“But you’re not now?”

“It’s complicated Harry,” Sirius said. “People change, you know? As you get older. It just happens naturally. But it’s even worse when tragedies happen. It makes the change more sudden, random.” Sirius sighed. “The war was raging. And I was secret keeper. And we thought there was a spy. Remus was being so secretive…or I thought he was.” 

“What was he doing?”

“Dumbledore had him associating with other werewolves to try and be some sort of spy,” Sirius explained. “It was starting to take its toll. He just wasn’t confiding in me. And I’m naturally paranoid. I thought he might have been the spy, and that’s how Peter ended up secret keeper. So I betrayed his trust first. And then, he believe I was guilty after everything went down. So then, he betrayed me. Then, he spent the next 12 years alone, dealing with his curse all by himself. And I spent those years in Azkaban, being tormented by dementors.” Sirius looked up at Harry. “We’ve changed. Drastically. And we’ve both suffered. We’ve been trying to find our way back to one another, but it’s hard. I don’t know if we ever will.”

“I’m sorry Sirius,” Harry said quietly.

“It’s not your fault Harry,” Sirius said. He quickly perked back up. “But enough depressing talk. Who’s the boy?”

“Hey, you can’t just change the subject like that!”

“Can too. Who’s the boy?”

Harry sighed. “You aren’t going to like it.”

“Try me.”

Harry took a deep breath. _I must not tell lies. _“Malfoy.”

Sirius was shocked. “_Malfoy!?_ Seriously Harry? Lucius Malfoy’s son!? A Slytherin? A Death Eater’s kid?”

“I know, I know,” Harry said. ‘That’s why I fought it for so long.”

“But why?” Sirius asked incredulously. “I don’t understand why you would like someone like that.”

“He’s been…different this year,” Harry said.

“How so?”

“Well, he’s mostly the same in public, but we keep meeting up by accident,” Harry said. “And, well it’s hard to explain, but it’s like he’s been a normal person you know? He’s found me a couple times when I was hiding because I was upset, and instead of making fun of me he’s comforted me. Been kind. He’s also made somewhat of an effort to reach out. In secret of course.”

“You know there is a chance he could be pretending right?” Sirius said. “Trying to get close to you for Voldemort.”

“I hadn’t thought of that,” Harry admitted. “But I don’t think so. It feels genuine. I can’t be certain if he’s gay of course, but at the least it really does seem like he wants to be my friend.”

“So…you’re actually going to try?” Sirius said. “Because I have to say I advise against it.”

“I’m not sure,” Harry said. “I don’t think I could be friends with him if he didn’t change, you know? I get where you’re coming from. I don’t want to date a Death Eater. It’s just that…he doesn’t strike me as one.”

Sirius contemplated this. “Does it feel as though, he’s looking for help?” he asked. “As though he doesn’t want to be where he is, but needs someone to sort of step up and push him in the right direction?”

“I don’t know,” Harry said. “I think I’d need to talk to him more to find out.”

Sirius was quiet. Then he said, “For the record, I do not think any of this is a good idea…but you can’t help who you have feelings for. And I think that if you don’t try and speak to him, and find out exactly where he stands, you won’t have a chance of getting over him. At the very least, you can find out if he’s on your side or not, and go from there.”

“That makes sense,” Harry said. His stomach grumbled, and he checked the time to see breakfast was almost over. “Thanks a lot Sirius. I have to go. At least if I want to grab breakfast in time.”

“Anytime, Harry,” Sirius said. “And hey, if you do talk to Malfoy, be careful okay?”

“I will.”

“Love you kid,” Sirius said.

Harry paused. Those were words he was not used to hearing. “I…I love you to Sirius.” With a smile, Sirius gave him a small wave and vanished from the mirror. Harry picked his up, and as he made his way to breakfast, he felt content—for a number of reasons.

***

Harry and his friends spent most of the day completing homework. Harry was more than over the year of the O.W.L.s. He almost wished he could just take the tests today and put an end to this madness. When he made the mistake of saying this out loud, Hermione launched on a 20-minute tirade about how they were nowhere near prepared enough. Harry decided right then and there he would not complain about homework again—at least not near Hermione.

Luckily, since Harry was not in detentions anymore, his homework was not piling up to a completely unbearable height as it had those first few weeks. As such, they finished in-time for supper, and would have the evening free. Well, Harry and Neville had the evening free, as Ron and Hermione had prefect duty that night.

Harry had not said a word about his new discovery. Luna had assured him, that if his friends were true, they would not care. But that was exactly what Harry was worried about. Had they not already let him down over the summer? He thought perhaps he should start with Neville and work his way to Ron and Hermione. Perhaps he could tell Neville that night, while the others were patrolling the halls.

As they were dining in the Great Hall, Harry glanced over to the Slytherin table. It didn’t take him long to spot Malfoy, who rather than speaking with his friends, seemed to be reading a book. Harry covertly stared at him, hoping he would look up. After a few minutes, Malfoy finally glanced his way. This time, Harry was the one who motioned outside. Malfoy raised an eyebrow at him, before subtly shaking his head no.

Harry looked down at his plate to hide his disappointment from his friends. He supposed he deserved this, given how he had ignored Malfoy when the boy had tried this same tactic. But he had been infused with a small burst of confidence, and really wanted to get his talk with Malfoy over. Sirius was right; he needed to see if a friendship would even work with the Slytherin. If not, he was one step closer to getting over him.

Harry was determined. If he couldn’t talk to Malfoy today, he would make it happen another day. The group started to make their way back to the common room. As they were walking out, Harry noticed that Malfoy, once again absorbed in his book, had gotten up by himself and was heading towards the exit. Harry made some excuse with his friends for having to hang back, one he was sure Hermione saw through as she raised her eyebrows at him. As soon as his friends were out of sight, he turned and headed towards the dungeons, hoping that is where Malfoy was headed. Luck was on his side, and Harry was able to grab Malfoy and drag him into an empty room.

“Argh!” yelled Malfoy, who was so absorbed in his book he had not even seen Harry approach. “What the—”

“Shhh,” Harry hushed him. “Do you want people to hear us?”

Malfoy yanked his arm back and straightened his robes as Harry made sure the door was closed and placed a silencing charm in case any other Slytherins decided to walk by. “Was that necessary?” he asked angrily.

“Well unlike you, some of us don’t give up so easily when we’re told no,” Harry said, turning around with a smirk.

Malfoy muttered something that sound an awful lot like “annoying Gryffindors.” He looked up at Harry. “Well you’ve got me,” he said. “What do you want then?”

“I wanted to talk,” Harry said.

“Oh so when you want to talk you won’t take no for an answer, but when I want to talk it’s no big deal,” Malfoy said angrily. “Just ignore the Slytherin. He can’t have anything important to say.”

“I’m sorry,” Harry said.

“You can’t just—wait, what?”

“I said I’m sorry,” Harry repeated. “I didn’t want to speak with you because I wanted to put a stop to…well whatever this is.”

“So you decide you want to end it, and now you decide you don’t want it to end, and it doesn’t matter what I want?” Malfoy asked, crossing his arms in anger.

Harry sighed. “Okay, so I can totally see how that is a jerk move, but is it really worse than the things you’ve done over the years?”

“What ever happened to two wrongs don’t make a right?” Malfoy countered.

Harry rolled his eyes. “Well, can we just agree that we’re both jerks and start over?”

Malfoy stared hard at Harry in contemplation for a moment before giving in. “Fine,” he said stubbornly. “So what did you want?”

“Uhh…this,” Harry said.

“That doesn’t make much sense Potter,” Malfoy said.

“What I meant, was that I want to try and see if…whatever this is…could actually be something,” Harry said. “I’m trying to see if maybe you and I could actually be friends.”

Malfoy couldn’t hide the surprise on his face. Harry couldn’t quite put his finger on why, but he also thought the blond looked rather pleased.

“Really?” Malfoy asked hesitantly. “I thought you didn’t want to be friends with a Death Eater’s son?”

“Well, I don’t, particularly,” Harry admitted. He saw Malfoy’s face fall. “But, we don’t choose our parents. So, I suppose my question is—do you aim to be a Death Eater to?”

Malfoy looked away. “It…it’s not that simple,” he said.

“Really?” Harry asked. “Because I think it is.”

“Look, if you’re asking me if I want to go around killing people, then the answer is no,” Malfoy said. “Do I think that purebloods are superior to other bloodlines? Yes, in many ways. Does that mean I want to go around killing muggleborns? Of course not.” Malfoy shuddered. “The idea of even attempting something like that terrifies me.”

“You know that’s kinds of what Death Eaters do right?” Harry insisted.

“Yes I am aware,” Malfoy responded. “You know, being fathered by one and all.”

“So what’s complicated about that?” Harry asked, growing angry.

“You don’t know what it’s like!” Malfoy exclaimed suddenly.

“What what’s like?” Harry yelled back.

“Being born into a family like mine,” Malfoy said. “There’s a lot of responsibilities on my shoulder. I’m the Malfoy heir and that comes with a bunch of expectations. I’m expected to be top of my class. I’m expected to follow the family code. And that includes disliking muggleborns. And in this case it includes following…following the Dark Lord.”

“But you have a choice Malfoy!” Harry protested. “You can choose not to do those things!”

“Yeah at the cost of losing my family!” Malfoy shot back.

“Do you really want the kind of family that makes you become a killer?” Harry asked.

“You wouldn’t understand Potter. You don’t have parents,” Malfoy said. “And I didn’t mean that as an insult,” he added, as Harry opened his mouth to protest. “It’s the truth. Your parents aren’t there, so you don’t know what it’s like. You’ve only seen the bad sides of my family. Believe it or not, my parents are good parents. They love me and care for me and support me. I can’t just up and leave.”

“If they love and support you so much can’t you try to convince them to be on the right side?”

“If I told my father he needed to be nice to muggleborns he would probably either send me to St. Mungo’s or disown me right then and there.”

“So much for being good parents,” Harry huffed.

“They are good parents!” Malfoy shouted. “This is just how things are Potter!”

“That doesn’t make it right Malfoy!” Harry shouted back.

“I know that!” Malfoy said. When Harry stopped and really looked at him, he realized that Malfoy looked close to tears. “I’m just trying to explain my dilemma. If you had a family you were close to, you would find it hard to just up and leave them behind too!”

Harry thought about that for a moment. He couldn’t imagine having family that was that as wrong as Malfoy’s and not leaving them. But maybe Malfoy had a point. His aunt and uncle were awful, but being that they weren’t his parents—and they certainly didn’t really care about him—he would leave in a heartbeat if he could. But could he leave someone who was wrong, but truly loved him?

“Let me ask you this,” Harry said quietly. “If you had the choice, completely on your own with none of the repercussions you just mentioned, which side would you chose?”

Malfoy was deathly quiet. Harry thought he could hear their heartbeats. He could certainly hear his. Finally Malfoy spoke.

“He’s terrifying you know,” he said.

“Who?”

“_Him_,” Malfoy said. “The Dark Lord. I don’t know what my father sees. I can’t see it. And I tried.” He looked at Harry helplessly. “I tried to see things through my father’s eyes. But whenever I think of the Dark Lord, I’m filled with dread. I don’t want to be near him. And I certainly don’t want to carry out any of his wishes. So I guess my answer would have to be your side.” Malfoy tried to force a laugh. “I certainly don’t want to be on whatever side Umbridge is on.”

Harry gave him a small smile. “Well at least we know you have some common sense.” Harry ran a hand through his hair and sat on the floor against a wall. He looked up at Malfoy. “So where does that leave us?”

Malfoy hesitated for a moment, before walking over and sitting down next to Harry. “I think that depends on what you’re willing to overlook,” he said quietly. Harry looked at him. “I’m no Gryffindor. I don’t know if I’ll ever have the kind of courage it would take to leave my family. And if I don’t leave my family, they will make me join Harry. It doesn’t matter what I want.”

“I couldn’t be friends with someone who worked for Voldemort,” Harry said. He pondered the dilemma for a moment. He thought of another Slytherin, who got caught up in a mess bigger than himself and made the best of it. “Do you…do you think…you could be a spy?”

Malfoy looked surprised. “I hadn’t thought of that,” he said. “It would be dangerous. The Dark Lord is a master legilimens. I’d have to be extremely careful. My father’s been teaching me some basic occlumency. I suppose if I got good enough I could manage it.”

“If you’re willing to take the risk, I think I might be able to help you in that department,” Harry offered.

Malfoy looked even more shocked than before. “Well you’re just full of surprises aren’t you?”

“There just one more thing,” Harry said. Malfoy raised an eyebrow. “I can’t be friends with someone who is so obviously cruel to others. You’re mean to everyone Malfoy, including my friends.”

Malfoy sighed. “You know if I just start being nice to Gryffindors and muggleborns and word gets back to my family, I’m as good as disowned right?”

Harry was about to protest, but his recent allusion to Snape was still at the forefront of his mind, and he couldn’t help but think about his potions professor. Snape was on his side. Snape had helped him, and he risked his life for Harry all the time. And yet, he had to appear to hate him. Harry couldn’t say Snape was his friend, but he was much more likeable as of late.

Harry took a deep breath. “Do you think---maybe, just maybe—that you could tone it down a bit?” he asked. “Maybe not be so terribly awful, while not being nice either. I’m obviously not asking you to be my friend publicly. I’m not that stupid, despite what the opposition may think.” He nudged Malfoy at the last bit.

Malfoy laughed. “Good,” he said. “I could never be friends with an idiot.” They both laughed before settling into a comfortable silence.

“What do you say?” Harry asked eventually. “Deal?”

Malfoy thought for a moment. “Deal.” They turned towards each other and shook hands. Harry thought they both held on for just a second too long, but if Malfoy wasn’t going to comment on it, neither was he. Now that he wasn’t so focused on the conversation, he realized how good the other boy smelt. _Damn_, he thought. _Not this again_.

“So uhh…” Malfoy began.

“Yeah?”

“I was just thinking, if we’re going to be friends now…we should probably call each other by our first names,” Malfoy suggested hesitantly. “At least in private.”

“I suppose that makes sense,” Harry said. With that, Harry stood up. “And now that that is settled, I think I better get back to my dorm before my friends start asking too many questions.”

“Same,” Malfoy said standing up. “See you around…Harry?”

Harry smiled at the blond. “Yeah. See you around…Draco.” As Harry walked away, he realized he quite liked the sound of his name from Malf…Draco’s lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Our boys have made progress! Yay! Now, will his friends be as supportive??


	17. Confessions Part 2

Harry walked away from his encounter with Mal…Draco with a spring in his step. Those who encountered him likely thought he was as looney as the Daily Prophet said he was. Now that he was away from the Slytherin, he allowed a stupid grin to fill his face.

Their talk had gone better than expected. He was truly nervous about what Draco’s answer would be. He was pleased to know that there was a chance. Maybe with enough guidance in the right direction, Draco could end up on the right side of things—permanently. As Harry passed the library, he saw Luna about to head inside. He decided to thank her again for her advice.

“Hey Luna!” Harry said cheerfully.

“Hello Harry!” Luna responded, just as brightly. “You seem happy. I take it your news went over well?”

“Well, I haven’t told my friends yet,” Harry admitted. “But I did speak with, uhh…” he looked around and lowered his voice, “you know.”

“And that went well?”

“Better than expected,” Harry said.

“That’s wonderful Harry,” Luna said. “Are you going to tell your friends?”

“Uh, I think I’m going to break it up a bit,” Harry answered. “You know, not tell them all at once?”

“It’s your choice I guess,” Luna said. “Just remember Harry, true friends won’t care.” Luna smiled dreamily at Harry as she walked into the library.

“Thanks Luna!” Harry made his way back to the dorm room, where Ron kicked his butt at wizard’s chess until it was time for him and Hermione’s prefect duty. Once they were gone, Harry looked at Neville and motioned for the two to go up to their dorm room.

“Everything alright?” Neville asked.

“Yeah,” Harry answered. “I just wanted to talk to you in private without any prying ears.” Harry sat down on his bed and motioned for Neville to sit on his.

“Okay,” Neville said as he sat down. “What’s up?”

“Well you know how I’m having those occlumency lessons with Snape right?” Harry asked. 

“Yea,” Neville responded. “Is he treating you okay?”

“Yes, actually,” Harry said. “I know you probably won’t believe this. Hell, I lived it and only kind of believe, but he’s actually been really supportive and helpful.”

“You’re right. I don’t believe you,” Neville said with a laugh. “But go on.”

“Well, the thing is, we practice by having him enter my mind while I try to fight him off,” Harry explained. “And so, naturally, he’s seen a lot of my memories.”

“These lessons sound worse by the moment.” Neville shuddered. “I certainly wouldn’t want Snape snooping around my head.”

“That’s exactly how I felt—at first. But he’s actually helped me to sort out some things that needed to be sorted out. Left to myself, I doubt I ever would have.”

“Like what?”

“Well,” Harry ran a hand through his hair, “By looking at several of my memories, he sort of helped me figure out that…I uhh…he helped me realize I was gay.” Harry said the last bit in one big rush and looked down at his feet as a blush filled his cheeks. He was met with silence. As he grew more nervous, he simultaneously got the courage to look up at Neville, who was staring back at him deep in thought. “Uhh…are you going to say something?”

“Oh,” Neville said, shaking his head. “Sorry, I got lost in my own head for a second.”

“Soo…do you have anything to say?” Harry asked anxiously.

“Oh!” Neville exclaimed. “Sorry Harry! That’s great.” Harry looked at him in confusion. “Oh, sorry!” Neville said again. “I meant that it’s great that you figured that out. I was staring because first I got confused because I thought you liked Cho. Then, I thought about how awful it must have been to realize this about yourself with Snape. And then, I started thinking about how much I hate potions.” Harry laughed and shook his head. Neville gave him a small smile. “But seriously, if you thought it would bother me it doesn’t.”

“Really?” Harry asked.

“Of course not,” Neville said. “I’ve heard both bad and good things about gay people.” Harry raised his eyebrows. “Well, you see. Sometimes pureblood families are very anti-gay because of the importance of passing on the family line. Most of my family, including my parents according to my grandmother, are pretty laid back about everything. That doesn’t mean there aren’t those who still take issue with it.”

This was not what Harry wanted to hear. On the one hand, it was great to have Neville’s support. On the other, Draco was pureblood. Did he hate gays? Harry turned back to the conversation at hand. He couldn’t get his answers now anyway.

“Thanks Neville,” he said. “It means a lot to have your support. I’m really nervous about this whole telling people thing.”

“So do Ron and Hermione know?” Neville asked.

“Not yet,” Harry admitted. “I actually told Luna first. I ran into her the same night I figured it out and she just seemed like the kind of person who would understand. Then, I told Sirius. Now it’s just my friends. I’m not ready to tell anyone else.” Harry looked up at Neville. “Ron and Hermione have already let me down before. I’m scared to see what they will say, but I was fairly confident you would be okay with it.”

“Wow, Harry,” Neville said. “Thanks for thinking good of me. Most don’t.”

“I always think good of you Neville,” Harry assured. “You’re a good person.”

“Well, so are Ron and Hermione,” Neville insisted. “Regardless of what’s in the past, I don’t think they would change their opinions of you over this.”

“You think?”

“I do,” Neville said. “And I’m no expert or anything, and this is totally you’re secret to tell, but I think the longer you wait, the more nerve-wracking it will be.”

“You have a point,” Harry said with a sigh. “I guess I could wait in the common room and tell them when they get back from duty.”

“Want me to keep you company?”

“If you wouldn’t mind,” Harry said. “I’d actually like that.”

“No problem,” Neville said. “In exchange, you can help me with my potions essay, tutor.” They both laughed, and then made their way down to the common room to wait for Ron and Hermione.

It was late when the two of them finally returned from patrols, but Harry knew if he didn’t tell them tonight, he would keep finding excused to put it off. He and Neville were playing gobstones when the two prefects entered the common room.

“What are you two still doing up?” Hermione asked as Ron let out a yawn.

“Waiting for you guys,” Harry said. “I wanted to talk.”

“Hope it’s nothing serious,” said Ron.

“That depends on your definition of serious,” Harry repeated. Ron and Hermione shared a look before sitting down. Harry did one last sweep of the room just to make sure they were really alone.

“Is everything alright?” Hermione asked, growing worried.

“It actually is,” Harry said. “You see, in my last lesson with Snape, I sort of came to a revelation about myself. After speaking with Sirius, and Luna actually, I feel a lot better about everything, and I think I’ve come to terms with it. Really, the only thing left, for the moment at least, is to tell you guys.”

“Why didn’t you tell us first?” Ron asked. “You always used to tell us first.”

“Ron,” Hermione said, nudging him. She turned back to Harry. “Go on Harry.”

“It’s okay,” Harry said. “I didn’t tell you guys first because I was worried about your reactions. I had a gut feeling that Luna and Neville would be alright. And I wanted to tell Sirius first because I feel like that’s as close as I can get to telling my parents.”

“Alright then,” Ron said, though he still seemed a bit upset. “So what is it?”

Harry took a deep breath. Neville slyly gave him a thumbs up. “So, remember when we discussed whether or not I actually had feelings for Cho?” The two nodded. “Well after reviewing my memories, I’ve come to the conclusion that I only like her as a friend.” Harry paused, momentarily uncertain if he wanted to go any further.

“Well that’s good right?” Hermione asked. “I mean, at least you know how you feel, and now you can both move forward.”

“Right,” Harry said. “But that’s not all I discovered.” He took another deep breath. “You see, the reason I don’t like Cho as more than a friend, is because she’s…well…a she.” He looked up at his friends. Ron looked confused, but Hermione’s eyes had grown wide, and Harry could tell she understood.

“Oh, Harry I’m sorry,” Hermione said. Harry supposed the disappointment was obvious on his face, because Hermione’s face filled with panic. “Oh, no Harry! I didn’t mean it like that. I just meant it must have been quite shocking for you to discover. You must have been worried sick!”

“So…you’re okay with it?” Harry asked cautiously.

“Of course I am,” Hermione said. “That’s nothing worth getting upset over. You’re still you Harry. As long as you’re happy, that’s what matters!”

Harry breathed a sigh of relief, but then he realized Ron still hadn’t said anything. He looked at his best friend, the first he’d ever had. Ron was looking between everyone, even more confused than before.

“I don’t understand,” Ron admitted. “What do you mean you didn’t like her because she’s a she?”

“Well…I just meant that…I don’t have feelings for her because…she’s a girl.” Ron still looked confused, so Harry clarified. “As in…she’s not a boy.”

Ron still looked slightly confused, so Hermione rolled her eyes. “Oh for merlin’s sake Ron! Harry is trying to tell you he’s gay!”

Ron’s eyes grew wide in understanding. “What!?” he exclaimed. “Are you serious?”

“Well, yeah,” Harry said. “Why would I lie about something about this?”

“Oh.”

“Oh?” Harry said. “What does that mean? Does…does me being gay bother you?”

“No,” Ron said quickly. “Well, maybe. I don’t know.”

Harry’s heart sank. “What do you mean you don’t know?”

“It doesn’t matter who Harry likes Ron,” Hermione said.

“Well I know,” Ron muttered. “It’s just…weird is all.”

“Weird?” Harry asked.

“Yeah, weird,” Ron repeated. “I’m not mad or anything. And obviously, who you like is none of my business, outside the fact that I’m your friend and obviously I care. I guess maybe…maybe just give me some time to process?”

Harry looked down at the floor. “Yeah. Yeah sure Ron,” he said quietly. Ron nodded, and got up and went to their dorm room. Harry sighed, and blinked away tears.

“He’ll come around,” Hermione said, moving to sit next to Harry. She put her arms around him. “You know how he is sometimes. You’re probably the first gay person he’s ever met. You’re his friend. Just give him time.”

“Yeah. I will. It just kind of hurts you know?”

“I know,” Hermione said. She quickly changed the subject. “So, do you know how you are going to break it to Cho?”

Harry’s head jerked up. “What?”

Hermione sighed. “You have to tell Cho Harry.”

“Well, I wasn’t exactly planning on coming out to anyone else at the moment,” Harry said.

“I’m not saying you have to come out,” Hermione clarified. “But you at least need to tell her you are not interested in pursuing a relationship. Do you want my advice?” Harry nodded. “Be honest. If you don’t tell her you’re gay, you’ll have to make up another excuse. This is going to be hard enough as it is. If it were me, I would want to know that I didn’t do anything wrong. And I certainly wouldn’t tell anyone.”

Harry sighed again. “You’re probably right Hermione. I’ll think about it.”

It took a few days, but eventually Ron came around. Once he came to terms with it, it just took some clarification to make sure Harry didn’t like him. After Harry assured him that was incredible gross, Ron accepted things, and everything returned as close to normal as it could. Harry couldn’t quite let go of the fact that Ron hadn’t accepted him right away. He acted like everything was fine, but underneath he could still feel the sting. Harry also kept Hermione’s advice in the back of his mind, and yet, his Gryffindor courage had evaporated. He simply tried to avoid Cho, while not making it obvious he was avoiding her.

D.A. meetings continued, and Harry made sure not to avoid Cho completely, while also making sure to never be alone with her. The meetings were going great, and Hermione had even come up with a way of communicating involving fake galleons. As the first quidditch match of the season approached however, meetings grew harder to come by. Angelina was insistent on almost daily practices. Harry barely blinked, and the first match, against Slytherin no less, was upon them.

The weeks leading up to the match got brutal. The feud between Slytherin and Gryffindor revealed itself in jinxes, hexes, and physical confrontations. Through it all, Harry noticed a certain blond was suspiciously absent. Harry had asked Snape to help Draco learn occlumency, and in the weeks leading up to the match, they met up whenever they could. Between classes, homework, D.A., and quidditch practice, there was little time for anything else, but the two managed to find a few spare minutes here and there.

Draco had warned Harry that he would have to participate in the rivalry, but that he would try to keep it reasonable, in public at least. He confided in Harry that he had amped up the things he said in private to make up for his public absence. He sneered and jeered with the others, and though he taunted, it was nothing Harry and the others couldn’t handle. Truth be told, Harry was rather proud of him. They had a tense moment the night before the match, as Draco revealed Slytherin’s final tactic.

“The badges say what now!?” Harry exclaimed.

“Weasley is our king,” Draco repeated, with a grimace. “The idea is that he’s so bad that he actually works in our favor. You have to admit Harry, he isn’t that great.”

“It’s just nerves,” Harry insisted. “I’m sure you were nervous for your first game too! And that’s not the point!” Harry sighed. “This is going to completely ruin him. He’ll never be able to focus.”

“Well, yes,” Draco said. “That is rather the point.”

“And you said there is a song too?” Draco nodded. “And you helped with both?”

“You know I had too,” Draco protested.

Harry sighed again, still angry, but accepting that Draco was doing what he could. “Yeah, yeah I know. Well, thanks for the warning.” The following morning, Harry did the best he could to pump Ron up, and keep him away from the Slytherins. It was all for nothing, as the minute the game began, the sea of green began to sing and Ron lost all confidence he had managed to build up. Draco had smiled at Harry as they prepared to take off before quickly falling into a sneer. He also apologized again as he flew by Harry, but he had to sing as well to keep up appearances. Harry’s stomach was in knots. Knowing Draco had to do this didn’t make it easier to endure. Luckily for Gryffindor, Harry saw the snitch first. He took pleasure in taking a rather daring dive and racing Draco to the little golden ball.

The Slytherins did not take the loss well. He could hear them all continuing to taunt Ron as he and the others rushed the red-head off the field. As they were leaving the changing rooms, Harry saw Draco hiding by the bleachers. They made eye contact, and Harry quickly insisted he had forgotten something and that the others should go on without him. A few minutes later, he and Draco were alone in the changing rooms.

“That really was truly awful Draco,” Harry said. “It’ll take ages to build up his confidence after that.”

Draco sighed. “I know,” he said. “I said I was sorry. And I didn’t say anything after the game! I got crap from my teammates for just walking away you know!”

“Good,” Harry said. Draco looked at him exasperated. “I’m sorry. I know you have to keep appearances, but my best friend is crushed right now. I’m glad you at least some got some pay back.”

Draco rolled his eyes. “You better hope some light berating is all I get.” The two looked at each other in silence for a moment. “The rest of you played a really good game thought.”

“Thanks.”

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m peeved you got the snitch first.” Harry laughed. “But man it was a good catch.”

“Thanks Draco.”

“Seriously,” Draco insisted. “I mean wow. That was just incredibly se…uhh.” Draco blushed a deep red. “Incredibly superb quidditch tactics.”

Harry looked at Draco in confusion, not understanding why he was embarrassed. “Uh, thanks Draco. I try.”

The two quickly parted ways, as both their respective houses would soon start to question their absences. The remainder of the term went much the same: class, homework, D.A., quidditch, Draco. Hagrid returned. Harry and the others learned he had been out recruiting giants. Their first lesson after his return revealed that Harry had not in fact imagined the strange horses at the start of term. They were called Thestrals, and Harry could suddenly see them because he had seen death. The downside to this discovery was that Umbridge observed the lesson. She made Hagrid out to be a buffoon, to the glee of the Slytherins.

Harry added Hagrid getting sacked to his list of things to worry about, but unfortunately for Hagrid, he didn’t really have much time to think about it. As the holidays approached, everyone grew more and more eager for the break to happen. Ron asked Harry to spend Christmas at the burrow with the Weasley’s, but Harry had another idea. A few weeks before break, he holed himself in his dorm room while everyone was at supper to speak with his godfather.

“Hiyah Harry,” Sirius said cheerily.

“You’re in a good mood,” Harry remarked.

“We’ve had some company as of late,” Sirius responded. “It’s much better when I’m not alone here.”

“About that,” Harry said. “I was wondering, if maybe I could spend Christmas there with you? Ron invited me to stay with his family, but I’ve spent so much time with them and so little with you. I’d just like to spend more time with my godfather. And maybe…maybe you, Remus, and I could talk like you mentioned.”

Sirius beamed at him. “I’d love that Harry. I’ll talk to Dumbledore immediately.”

Harry scowled. “I’m not asking Dumbledore’s permission. I’m asking you.”

“And I’m saying yes,” Sirius assured. “But I still have to talk to him. What he says won’t matter, I promise.” Harry sighed, but nodded. “Hey, you never mentioned how things went with Malfoy. You’ve been too busy to talk.”

“Oh, well I guess they went well,” Harry said.

“Yeah?”

“Well, he admitted that he doesn’t want to be a Death Eater, and he…well he still holds some of the pureblood prejudices, but he doesn’t follow Voldemort’s ideology,” Harry said. “We discussed him maybe being a spy, because he’s hesitant to leave behind his family. Snape’s working with him on occlumency too.”

“Ah,” was all Sirius replied.

“I don’t think he’s spying on me for Voldemort Sirius,” Harry said firmly.

“I didn’t say anything,” Sirius protested.

“It was a very judgmental silence.”

Sirius sighed. “I will let you judge Malfoy. You know him better than I do. But even if he truly is on your side, if he’s not a convincing spy, he’s putting his life in danger.” Sirius gave Harry a pointed look. “_You’re _putting his life in danger. He could get killed if he’s discovered. Could you live with that?”

Harry thought for a moment. “I don’t know,” he said honestly. “But he could die either way. Even if I wasn’t involved, Voldemort could look into his mind and see that he has doubts. At least this way, he has people helping him. And Snape wouldn’t have agreed if he didn’t think there was a chance.”

“Alright, Harry,” Sirius conceded. “This is between you and Malfoy. I just want you to be aware of the consequences. More than a broken heart is at stake here.”

“I understand.”

Knowing he was going to be able to spend Christmas with his godfather made the last few weeks a breeze. For once, he was honestly looking forward to the break. It was with this mindset he went into the final D.A. meeting before Christmas.

Harry had everyone review all the spells they had focused on that term. Everyone was doing great, especially Neville. His class performance was still rocky, but in the D.A. he shined. At the end of the meeting, Harry wished everyone a Merry Christmas and went to get the room in order. Ron and Hermione left immediately for their prefect duty. Harry got distracted by a group of Hufflepuffs that had some questions. When they left, he looked around and suddenly discovered he was alone with Cho.

_Shit_ he thought. But what he said was, “Oh hey, I didn’t realize you were still here.”

“Oh, well,” Cho said with a blush. “We’ve all been rather busy lately. I just wanted a chance to talk before break. And to wish you a Merry Christmas. You know, in person.”

“Oh, uh, thanks,” Harry said. “Back at you.” He nervously ran his hand through his hair. Cho seemed to be inching closer to him. He looked around the room trying to come up with something to say. “Good lesson huh?”

“Oh, yes,” Cho said softly. “I’m really improving. You’re such a good teacher.”

Harry blushed. “Uh, thanks. Soo…any plans for the holidays?”

“Oh nothing fancy,” she replied. “Just the usual stuff.” She stopped right in front of Harry, who was frozen still. “Mistletoe.” Cho pointed upward, and Harry realized he had been standing under mistletoe the entire time. He panicked, realizing just what Cho was aiming for. He looked back at her to see her moving towards him, in for the kiss. Just as their lips were about to touch, Harry shouted and yanked himself back.

“No no,” Harry said as he finally regained control of himself. He looked up at Cho to see her looking extremely upset.

“I’m sorry,” she exclaimed. “It’s…sorry. I thought…I thought that…” She trailed off, and Harry could tell she was close to tears.

“No,” Harry insisted. “I’m sorry. It’s my fault. This is all my fault.”

“Did I do something wrong?” Cho asked, hastily wiping tears away.

“No,” Harry assured her, feeling worse by the second. “You didn’t do anything. It’s just…well…you see…okay I’m going to lay it out straight. I thought I liked you. I really really did, and I swear I wasn’t leading you on. It’s just that, after lots of retrospection…I’ve realized that I’m…well…I’m gay.” By the time he finished he was breathing heavy and just praying that he could find the words to fix this.

“Oh,” Cho said quietly. She had stopped crying, but she still looked upset.

“Yeah,” Harry said. “This probably won’t help, but apparently I, subconsciously, may have transferred my feelings towards Cedric to you without realizing because I’m not supposed to like blokes.”

Cho’s eyes get wide. “Ohhh. Well I certainly can’t fault you for likening Cedric.” She still looked upset. “And I guess that does make sense.” She laughed ruefully. “I suppose that explains why you were never in a hurry to make a move.” She looked up at him. “That’s not like other guys.”

“I’m so sorry Cho. I genuinely thought I liked you as more than a friend. I wasn’t leading you on I promise, Cho. I was trying to figure out how I felt and hanging out with you was nice so I tried to keep doing it but...I just…don’t like girls.”

“It’s okay Harry”

“Really?” he asked surprised.

“Well, obviously I’m really upset,” Cho explained with a sad smile. “But I can tell that you’re being sincere. That you really didn’t mean to hurt me or lead me astray.”

“Cho I am really soo sorry,” he said again. “I don’t think I can express in words how much.”

“I know,” she said. “I can tell.” There was a bit of an awkward silence as neither of them knew how to continue. Suddenly, Cho stood up straight and wiped what remained of her tears away. “You know Harry, I’m not sure if he likes anyone, but I’m at least 80% sure Andrew Brown is gay. He’s a Ravenclaw, but in your year.”

This took Harry by surprise. He certainly wasn’t expecting the conversation to go this way. He cast his mind through the Ravenclaw half of his transfiguration class. “Andrew: soft brown hair and eyes?”

“That’s the one,” Cho confirmed.

“Hmm,” Harry said. He was kind of cute, and decidedly not Slytherin. No chance of being involved with Death Eaters. “Uh, thanks Cho. That’s really nice considering what I’ve just done to you, so you know thanks for making me feel like even more of a jerk.”

Cho gave him a small smile. “It’ll be okay Harry. Give me some time. Maybe one day we can be friends again.”

“Of course. I understand.” Harry turned to get his things. He still felt bad, but at least Cho was kind enough to understand. “Oh,” he said turning back around, “can you keep this to yourself? I haven’t exactly come out to the public yet.”

“Of course. I would never to that do someone.”

Harry sighed in relief. “Thanks Cho.” Harry grabbed his bag. As he and Cho made it to the hallway and made to go their separate ways, he apologized one last time. “I truly never meant to hurt anyone,” he said. “You really are amazing you know? You’ll find someone great. Much better than me.”

Cho laughed. “Thank you Harry.” With that, she walked away. Harry turned to head back to his own dorm room.

Well, he thought, that could have gone worse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A Couple Notes: When it came to writing this chapter, there were a few things that I did just for time purposes. For instance, I really think Ron would have taken Harry’s news poorly, but I didn’t feel like dragging it out. I’ll try to bring the uneasiness back later on. It was the same with Cho, although I do like the idea of her being strong enough to move past things. Andrew Brown is a completely made up character because I didn’t feel like scouring the books to find a real one that would be suitable. I also didn’t know what classes, if any, Harry had with Ravenclaw, so I just picked one.


	18. Snakes for Christmas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is mostly a filler chapter. The next one will cover the Christmas break and be much more interesting.

As the final days before Christmas break approached, Harry thought he hadn’t felt this good since Voldemort’s return. Finally, he was starting to figure things out for himself. He had his old friends and his family on his side. And to top things off, he had new friends, and perhaps he even had something to look forward too.

So far, he had only told Luna and Sirius about his crush of Draco. Telling his friends he was gay was one thing, but telling them he like someone who was supposed to be their enemy was another. He and Draco had not found time to meet as the term drew to an end. Harry had, however, payed a bit more attention to a certain Ravenclaw in transfiguration. If things with Draco didn’t pan out, and Cho was right about her assumption, the brown-haired boy was certainly a good alternative.

In the meantime, Harry was growing more excited by the minute to spend Christmas with Sirius. He was excited for the opportunity to spend the holidays with family, one who cared anyway. The night before the final day of term, Harry and his friends had spent the evening goofing off in the common room. Harry had drifted to bed with a smile on his face thinking of all the good things going on. But in doing so, he had forgotten to clear his mind.

_He found himself walking down the oh-so-familiar corridor. No…not himself. Voldemort. Or was he Voldemort. Suddenly he realized he wasn’t walking—he was slithering. _

_ He was on the floor of the corridor, slithering slowly down towards the door that was always out of reach. He caught his reflection in the marble wall and saw the familiar sight of Nagini. _

_ His—no Nagini’s—tongue flicked out. He could taste a wizard in the air. As he neared the door, he finally saw who. It was the red-headed man. The one her master called a blood-traitor._

_ The man saw him. He exclaimed and raised his wand, but she was too quick for him. She lunged at his wrist and the wand fell from his hands. She heard it clatter on the ground, but she paid it no heed. Strike. Strike. Strike. With her final strike, she went for the throat. She felt his skin cave beneath her fangs and—_

“Harry! Harry wake up!” Harry jolted awake to find Ron shaking him. His other dorm mates stood behind looking worried. All but Neville. “Harry you alright mate?’ Ron was asking. “You’ve been screaming bloody murder.”

“Dad…” Harry tried to say between gasps of air. “Your…you…dad…attacked.”

“What?” Ron asked. “What happened Harry?”

“In hear Professor,” Harry heard Neville say.

“Move aside.” That was the voice of McGonagall. She came to Harry’s bedside. “What’s happening here?’

“Mr. Weasley,” Harry managed, having finally gotten enough air. “Mr. Weasley was attacked. I saw it. Please professor.”

To McGonagall’s credit, she didn’t hesitate. “Come with me Potter. You too Weasley. Get him up. Let’s go.”

“Where are we going?” Ron asked as they descended the stairs to the common room.

“To Dumbledore,” she answered curtly.

“No,” Harry protested. He tried to stop, but Ron pulled him forward. McGonagall spoke as they walked.

“Potter, now is not the time for grudges,” she explained. “If what you saw is true, and I believe it likely was, we need the headmaster.”

“You mean my dad’s really in danger?” Ron asked.

“Quickly now Mr. Weasley,” she replied. The three of them hurried to the headmasters’ office. They walked in to find Dumbledore sitting behind his desk. “Albus, there’s a problem. Potter’s seen something.”

Dumbledore stood up and walked around the desk towards them. He looked at Harry. “What did you see?’

Harry bit back all the retorts he wanted to say. If Mr. Weasley really was in danger, he needed help now. “I was in the corridor—the one I’m always in when I have these visions. Mr. Weasley was attacked by Nagini.”

Without a word towards Harry, Dumbledore turned towards one of the portraits on the wall. “Arthur is on guard duty tonight. See that he is found by the right people.” The portrait nodded and walked out of the frame. Dumbledore turned towards another portrait. “Phineas, alert Sirius that Arthur has been attacked. Harry and the Weasley children will be arriving shortly.” Again, the portrait nodded and walked out. The headmaster now turned toward McGonagall. “Minerva, go get the rest of the Weasleys. We’ll send them all at once.”

As Professor McGonagall exited the office, Snape entered it. He looked between the room’s inhabitants. “Minerva sent for me,” he said.

“Harry has had another vision,” Dumbledore stated. “Arthur was attacked by Nagini.”

Snape looked at Harry. “I didn’t clear my mind tonight,” Harry admitted. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Snape responded quietly. “If there was any night we should be glad you saw into the Dark Lord’s mind tonight would be it.”

“Be that as it may,” Dumbledore interrupted, “if Voldemort has discovered the connection we are all in danger.”

“We don’t know that he has,” Snape replied. “I can try to find out over break.”

“This vision appears to be more concrete than the others,” Dumbledore said, staring only at Snape. “There is a difference between Harry walking down the hall and watching someone be attacked.”

“I am right here you know!” Harry shouted. He was fed up. It was bad enough he had to come here, but it was another thing entirely to be ignored. “You could, oh I don’t know, ask me!”

Dumbledore glanced his way, but just then the first portrait returned. “They found him just in time Albus. He’s being taken to St. Mungo’s as we speak.” The headmaster looked to another portrait. “Wait in St. Mungo’s for his arrival. Let us know what you see.” The portrait nodded and left as the second one returned. “Sirius is ready for the children to arrive.” The headmaster turned towards Snape. “Severus, do you think—“

“Are you really just going to keep ignoring me!?’ Harry shouted. “It’s one thing to avoid me, but how can you stand in front of me pretending I don’t exist.”

Dumbledore sighed. “There are certain things that need to be taken care of—“

“And I’m not one of them!?” Harry yelled. “For someone who claims to care so much about my well-being you’ve seemed awfully unconcerned as of late!” Harry knew Ron and Snape were staring at him with worry, but he didn’t care. “You’re so concerned with whether or not Voldemort knows, but you don’t even care that I just watch someone I care about get hurt!”

“And it is important to make sure Mr. Weasley receives the proper care—“

“You’ve just done that!” Harry protested. “You—“

“Potter,” Snape said quietly, placing a hand on his arm. The gentleness startled Harry into silence. No one spoke for a moment, as Harry gathered his breath after all the shouting. “I am sorry for what you experienced. Can you tell me exactly what happened? In the past you have seen through the Dark Lord’s eyes. Was that the case tonight?”

Harry took a deep breath. “Not exactly. I was the snake.” He looked down, refusing to meet anyone’s eyes. “I attacked Mr. Weasley.”

“Potter,” Snape said. “Potter look at me.” Harry made eye contact with his potion’s professor. “You. Did. Nothing. Nagini attacked Arthur Weasely, not you. You simply saw it. The Dark Lord was likely possessing his snake, and that is why you saw through the snake’s eyes. Do you understand that?” Harry nodded, though he felt tears prick at his eyes. “I don’t see anything from your description to assume the Dark Lord is aware of your connection. Can you continue practicing over break? Tonight is especially important.”

Before Harry could speak, Dumbledore did it for him. “Do you think perhaps he should have a lesson tonight? Given—”

“THERE YOU GO AGAIN!” Harry shouted. “I’M RIGHT HERE! I CAN SPEAK FOR MYSELF!”

“Harry—”  
At that moment, McGonagall walked back in with the rest of the Weasley’s. They all looked tired and confused, but worried at the same time. They looked between Harry and Dumbledore, obviously having heard Harry yell right before the door was opened.

Snape broke the silence. “Whatever you are going to do to get these children to headquarters do it now,” he said. “There is nothing you can say to justify this that will satisfy Potter. The only one who can calm him is Black.” Dumbledore gave a terse nod and instructed everyone to gather around. Snape held Harry back for a moment. “Practice. Clear your mind constantly. I will visit you over break if I can.”

“Thank you,” Harry said quietly. He turned and grabbed onto the portkey Dumbledore had just made. The two made eye contact. Harry held back all the things he wanted to say, but he still gave Dumbledore the hardest glare he could muster. Then, he blinked and was whisked away. Next thing he knew, he and the Weasley’s were standing in the dining room of Grimmauld Place. The room was empty at first, but as soon as they managed to get their bearings, Sirius came barreling in.

“Everyone alright?” he asked frantically. When the Weasley’s all nodded, he turned to Harry. “You?”

“I’m still a bit shaken,” Harry admitted. “From what I saw.”

“That’s understandable,” Sirius said, wrapping Harry in a tight hug. “We can talk about it if you want.”

“That would be great Sirius,” Harry said with relief.

“What exactly did you see?” Fred asked.

“Yeah, all McGonagall said was that dad was attacked,” George added.

They all sat down, and Harry recounted his dream for them. By the time he finished, every face around the table was grim.

“Is he going to be okay?” Ginny asked. They all looked toward Sirius.

“We need to go to St. Mungo’s!” George exclaimed.

“I have to be honest: I’m not sure,” Sirius answered Ginny’s question first. “And we can’t go to St. Mungo’s.”

“But—” Fred began, but was cut off.

“They likely haven’t even notified your mother yet,” Sirius explained. “We can’t just show up and explain how you all knew what happened seconds after it occurred.”

Naturally, this didn’t exactly sooth anyone. Fred and George continued to argue with Sirius, but he wouldn’t budge. Then, a note arrived from Mrs. Weasley. It did even less to comfort them than Sirius had, but at least when she told them to stay put, they listened. After some time, and a few butterbeers, Sirius suggested everyone go to sleep, and was met with a look of disgust from the Weasley’s. So instead, they sat in silence, no one knowing what to say. Under the pretense of going to the loo, Harry got up to leave the room, but he gave Sirius a pointed look and the two meet in the study instead.

“That must have been hard for you to experience,” Sirius said.

“I could feel his skin cave beneath my fangs,” Harry said. “Well, Nagini’s fangs, but I still felt it.”

“Bloody hell,” Sirius said. “Harry I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Harry said. “Well, no it’s not, but at least Mr. Weasley was saved in time. If I had never seen it he would have likely died there.”

“Yes he probably would have,” Sirius conceded. “But that doesn’t mean you should have had to experience what you did.”

“If I had to choose between another traumatic nightmare and my best friend losing his dad, I would take the nightmare every time.”

Sirius gave Harry a rueful smile. “You are so much your parent’s son,” he said. “But I still wish you didn’t have to go through these things. What do you need Harry?”

“I don’t know really,” Harry admitted. “I can’t sit in there with them anymore. I know it wasn’t really me, but I can’t sit there with the feeling that I attacked their father. Can you stay with me?”

“You got it kid,” Sirius said. They both sat and leaned back against the sofa. They were silent for a few minutes. Harry laid his head on his godfather’s shoulder.

“Can you tell me about my mom?” he asked quietly. “Everyone always talks about my dad, or both of them together.”

“Of course I can,” Sirius responded. Sirius told Harry stories until he was able to drift off, still resting his head on his godfather’s shoulder.

It was for this reason he was rather confused when he awoke to not only find himself alone, but also laying down on the sofa with a blanket wrapped around him. He glanced at the clock to see it was around 10 in the morning. With a groan and a stretch, he threw the blanket off and headed to the kitchen. He arrived to see Sirius and Mrs. Weasley quietly sipping tea.

“Oh good Harry, you’re up,” he said. “Sit. I’ll get you something to eat.”

“Did you cook?” Harry asked, finding it hard to imagine Sirius in the kitchen.

“Worse,” he replied. “Kreacher cooked. But it was that or you guys had biscuits for breakfast.”

Before Harry could respond, Mrs. Weasley had jumped up and wrapped him in a hug. “I don’t know what we would have done without you Harry,” she said. “They wouldn’t have found Arthur for hours.”

“Is he going to be okay?”

“Yes, yes,” Mrs. Weasley said with a teary smile. “But he’ll be in St. Mungo’s for a while. We can go see him this afternoon.”

“Everyone will be staying here for the holidays,” Sirius said with a smile as he brought out a plate of food for Harry. “The more the merrier yea?”

“Yes,” Harry agreed. He suddenly realized he was starving, and eagerly accepted his plate. “Where are the others?”

“I arrived here around five in the morning to find them all sitting around the table trying not to fall asleep,” Mrs. Weasley said with a huff. “I sent them all to bed.”

Harry nodded and concentrated on eating his late breakfast. Sirius and Mrs. Weasley chatted next to him. Eventually, Mrs. Weasley remarked that the house could really use some holiday cheer.

The three of them spent some time carefully searching the house, most of which had not yet been cleaned, looking for some suitable decorations. They only managed to find a few, and spent some time somberly decorating what they could. The Weasley clan all woke up in time for a late lunch, and right as they finished up, they heard a familiar voice in the entryway.

“Did I hear that someone was lacking a Christmas tree?” Remus called.

They all piled into the hallway, and, sure enough, Remus was standing there with a beautiful Christmas tree and several more bags of decorations.

“Where did you get all this?” Mrs. Weasley asked.

“How did you know?” Harry asked next.

“Sirius sent word you were lacking some nice decorations,” Remus answered. “I thought brightening the house was a good idea, so I paid Hagrid a visit. He got me smaller version of the trees they always put in the castle and some extra decorations they didn’t use this year. Treat them carefully. We will have to return them.”

“Thanks Remus,” Ginny said, while Mrs. Weasley beamed.

“When your father is finally able to leave St. Mungo’s this will cheer him right up,” she said.

With that, they got to work and really made the house feel ready for the holidays. They did not get the chance to finish, but it was time to visit St. Mungo’s. Their trunks had arrived while they were decorating, so they changed into muggle clothes so that Tonks and Mad-Eye could escort them to the hospital. They arrived by traveling through a disguised department store. After figuring out where Mr. Weasley was located, they all made their way to his room.

Mr. Weasley was thrilled to see them. Both his children and Harry were relieved to see him in such a cheerful mood. Their excitement didn’t last long however, when Mr. Weasley refused to answer any of their probing questions and they were escorted to the hallway. The used Fred and George’s extendable ears to listen to what the adults were saying. Harry was dismayed to learn they knew that he had seen things from the snake’s perspective. He was even more dismayed to hear them speak of him being possessed by Voldemort.

He looked up to see that all of the others were staring at him with a mixture of fear and confusion. Even Ron, who knew about Harry’s occlumency lessons with Snape looked worried. Harry turned away so the other couldn’t see him roll his eyes. Sure, he felt bad about what happened to Mr. Weasley, but Snape was right. It wasn’t him. He had just seen it. If Voldemort knew about the connection he could plant memories, but he certainly couldn’t control him. Could he?

They returned to Grimmauld Place shortly after and ate supper. It was a quiet affair, and Harry could feel the Weasley children stealing nervous glances at him. Harry wasn’t in the mood for this, so after he finished, he retreated to the room he had used over the summer—Regulus’ former room. He could hear Sirius singing Christmas carols as he and the Weasley’s finished putting up Christmas decorations. Harry knew that his godfather had been pleased when he had asked to join him for Christmas, but now that he had a house full, he was more joyful than Harry had ever seen him.

As Harry sat down on his bed, wondering what his next move should be, he heard a tapping at the window and turned to see a familiar owl. It wasn’t his own, but he would know it anywhere. As he opened the window, he wondered how he had been so oblivious for so long. Who pays this much attention to someone they don’t have feelings for?

Harry laughed at himself and his own stupidity as he untied the scroll from Draco Malfoy’s owl. The message was short:

_She’s furious. You and your friends need to be very careful when you return. She’ll be keeping a closer eye than normal._

Harry folded up the letter and sighed. He was happy that Draco had thought to write to him, but he wished there did not have to be so much space and secrets between them. As he sat on his bed in contemplation, he heard a knock on the door. He turned to see Remus.

“Mind if I come in?” he asked.

“Not at all,” Harry answered. “Not helping with the decorating?”

“I don’t think Sirius needs any,” he said with a laugh. “I’ve never seen him so enthusiastic.”

Harry smiled. “I know he hates being in this house, but I’m glad he is. Otherwise I wouldn’t have been able to spend the holidays with him.”

“He’s happy too,” Remus said. “He was ecstatic when he told me you asked to come stay with him.”

“There’s no place else I’d want to stay,” Harry said.

“No?” Remus asked. “Not even at Hogwarts, with a certain blond?”

Harry blushed. “I don’t think he planned on staying for the holidays.”

“That doesn’t answer the question.”

“I suppose it would have been nice,” Harry admitted. “Less people, no homework, classes, or quidditch practice to distract us. But Umbridge would have been there.” Harry grimaced. “That in itself makes it not worth it.”

Remus laughed. “Yes, I suppose it does.” He sat on the bed next to Harry. “So, let’s take stock shall we?” Harry looked at him in confusion. “We’ve told Sirius, who told me. We’ve told who else now?”

“Luna,” Harry said. “She was first, just because I felt she would understand. Well, Snape was first, but that was because he was digging in my head. Then, Neville. Then, Ron and Hermione.”

“You told them last?” Remus asked.

“I guess I was the most afraid of telling them,” Harry admitted. “And I was partially right. Ron didn’t take it well. He’s come around, but I think it still bothers him a bit.”

“We can talk about that if you’d like,” Remus said. “Peter was the same way. Did you tell anyone else?”

“Just Cho,” Harry said.

Remus looked surprised. “Was that the young girl you thought you had a crush on?” Harry nodded. “I’m surprised you told her.”

“Well, she tried to kiss me and I sort of had to explain why I shouted and ran away,” Harry said sheepishly.

To Remus’ credit, he tried. He really did, but he could not contain his laughter. Harry laughed along with him. Now that the ordeal was over, he could see the humor in it. Remus wiped tears from his eyes.

“I want to hear all about that,” Remus said.

“Okay,” Harry agreed. “But you have to tell me all about your story. How you found out, how you told your friends, and definitely anything embarrassing.”

Remus laughed again. “Deal. Now you first.”


	19. Letters for Christmas

After their discussion, he had to admit Remus probably had it worse than he did. Figuring out you were gay because you were in love with your best friend sounded a lot worse than falling for your enemy. At least Harry could ignore his if he wanted to.

Remus was also much better at talking through things than Sirius was. They had been able to work through the previous year, so that Harry could see just how much he had transferred his feelings from Cedric to Cho. Remus even helped him analyze he and Malfoy’s relationship, and Remus had to admit that Harry was probably a bit too oblivious for his own good.

If there was one thing that left Harry unsettled afterwards, it was Peter. Remus explained how James had accepted him and Sirius right away, but Peter took some convincing. Although he did eventually come around, given how everything turned out, Harry did not feel very comforted. He was sure Ron had not totally come to terms with things, and had only said so to not be the odd man out. Harry wondered if Peter had done the same all those years ago.

It didn’t help that Ron had still not spoken to him since St. Mungo’s. He could understand the rest of the Weasley’s being suspicious, but Ron knew what was going on. Harry had spent day wandering the house. He was in Buckbeak’s room, feeding him some rats, when he heard a knock on the door. It opened to reveal a mane of bushy hair.

“Is this the part where you ignore me?” Hermione asked.

“Why would I ignore you?” Harry asked confused.

“Ron said you’ve been ignoring everyone since the incident at St. Mungo’s,” Hermione answered.

Harry rolled his eyes. “Oh, well I’m so sorry if I don’t want to sit around and have everyone stare at me like I’ve suddenly become a Death Eater.”

“You could try talking to them,” Hermione suggested. “Explaining things. Working stuff out.”

“I shouldn’t have to explain myself to Ron,” Harry said. “He knows what’s going on.”

“Does he?” Hermione counted. “Do any of us?”

“Seriously!?” Harry asked, growing angry. “I’m having visions, not being possessed Hermione. Ron knows that.”

“But we don’t really know what exactly these visions are Harry,” Hermione. “Isn’t the whole reason for you studying occlumency is to stop Voldemort from finding out about the connection and using it?”

“Yeah so he can’t put visions in my head,” Harry said. “No one ever said anything about me being possessed.”

“So just because the adults haven’t told you something, that means it’s not a possibility?” Hermione asked, hands on her hips.

Harry sighed. “Okay, okay. Whatever.” He got up and dusted himself off. “Let’s go then.” The two made their way downstairs to the bedroom Harry was supposed to have shared with Ron. The others were all there.

“Oh look George, Harry’s still here,” Fred said.

“Yeah Fred. I thought he’d vanished days ago,” George said.

Harry grabbed a pillow and threw it at the twins. “I wasn’t hiding,” he said. “And I won’t apologize for not wanting to be around people who treat me like a freak of nature.”

“We just thought you’d want to talk to us,” Ron said.

“What do I have to talk about?” Harry asked angrily. “I know what’s going on.” Hermione raised an eyebrow and opened her mouth, but Harry cut her off. “Or at least, I know enough.” He looked at Ron. “And you know everything I know, so if its explanations everyone wants you could have certainly gave them. But no, you were just as suspicious as the rest!”

“I thought you were having weird dreams mate!” Ron said. “No one said anything about you being possessed!”

“That’s because I’m not!” Harry spat back.

“Are you sure?” asked Fred.

“I think I would know if I was being possessed!” Harry insisted.

“Would you thought?” George countered.

“You know,” interrupted Ginny, “you could ask the one person here who has actually been possessed by Voldemort.”

Harry sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I didn’t ask because I already know,” Harry said. “But since everyone else seems to be in doubt, Ginny what do you think?”

“Can you remember everything you’ve done?” Ginny asked. “Whenever he possessed me, there were always gaps in my memory. I’d wake up places and not know how I got there.”

“No,” Harry answered. “That’s never happened to me.”

“Then you’re not being possessed,” Ginny said simply.

Harry looked at the others. “Convinced now?” he asked. “Because I’m really getting sick of all of this.” The others quietly nodded. Harry sighed again and sat down on one of the beds. Hermione decided to change the topic.

“So Harry, how are your lessons with Snape going?” she asked.

“They’re going fine,” Harry answered. “He’s actually helped me a lot. Why do you ask?”

“Well, it’s just that…” she began hesitantly. “Well, it’s not that I’m upset that you saw Mr. Weasley be attacked, because he likely wouldn’t have been saved without it, but isn’t this the exact thing you’re supposed to prevent?”

“Well I’m trying Hermione,” Harry said. “Snape is good. I’m getting better, even he said it. But it takes time.”

“You’ve been practicing all term,” Hermione said. “I’m just worried you’re not taking it seriously.”

“If you think I enjoy seeing through Voldemort’s eyes—”

“That’s not what I’m saying.”

“Sounds like it.” The others looked between Harry and Hermione nervously.

“Okay, well yes,” Hermione admitted. “I did wonder if it gave you some sense of importance. But I’m also worried for your safety. You shouldn’t be seeing these things.”

Harry grit his teeth and bit back his anger. He really wasn’t in the mood to get into it with Hermione right now. “Like I said, I’m trying. It’s not that easy.” He sighed. “I even tried hiding stuff from him, but it didn’t work.”

“Maybe try again,” Hermione suggested. Harry glared at her. “Look I’m not saying you haven’t been trying, but you need to try harder.” They were all quite for a moment before Hermione’s eyes got big. “I’ve got it! Harry you should hide all the times Snape helped you!”

“What?” Harry asked confused.

“Voldemort doesn’t know that Snape is working for the Order right?” she asked. Harry nodded. “So if Voldemort looks into your mind and sees Snape helping you, that could be a problem?” Harry nodded again. “So hide away all the memories of Snape being nice and you can use that to practice AND have the added bonus of if Voldemort does realize the connection the stuff he really shouldn’t see is hidden.”

“That makes sense,” Harry said. “But I’m still telling you it isn’t as easy as you’re thinking.”

***

The day before Christmas Eve, Harry was sitting in his bedroom contemplating. Ever since Remus had brought up the idea about spending the holidays with Draco, he had lamented that the idea had not come to him sooner. Though he could not fully regret his decision to spend Christmas with Sirius. They had spent many hours in the past few days talking. Harry discovered he enjoyed having a parental figure he could talk to about his life.

Remus was there a lot a well. He had great advice, usually better than Sirius if Harry was honest. And Harry was pleased to see the two of them spending more time together. Perhaps things were improving for them.

And yet, he couldn’t help but think of the possibilities of having a nearly empty castle with little to no one there to bother him and Draco. It would have been a wonderful time to build their friendship. He had asked Remus and Sirius for advice earlier that day, and Sirius had suggested he write to Draco. Remus cautioned him to be careful with what he said in case the letter ended up in the wrong hands, and that perhaps he shouldn’t use his real name.

Harry thought this was a good idea, but after staring at a sheet of parchment for an hour, he had not come up with the right thing to say. What do you tell someone who is your sort of friend that you have a sort of crush on? Eventually, Harry settled on something he felt comfortable with.

_Dear Draco,_

_Thank you for the warning. It is appreciated. Though, honestly at this point I don’t think it is possible for Umbridge to hate me more than she already does._

_I’m sorry I left before getting the chance to say goodbye. There wasn’t time for discussion. They wanted to get us out of the castle before she found us and starting asking questions. _

_I am sure you know about Mr. Weasley. If you don’t, he was attacked by Nagini. He is doing alright. We even got to visit him. The Weasley’s are all a bit somber, but I can’t exactly blame them. We are making the best of things for the holidays. It helps that I have my, uh, uncles here to talk to. I don’t get to spend as much time with them as I would like._

_Speaking about time, I wish we had more. One of my uncles mentioned how nice it would have been if you and I had been at Hogwarts for the holidays, and I can’t help but think of how right he is. Without any obligations, and a great deal less people, we would have had so much free time._

_Oh, well. Perhaps this is an idea for the future. I hope you have a wonderful Christmas. See you when we return._

_Sincerely,_

_Lion_

Harry knew “Lion” was not the best name he could use, but he could not come up with anything better. Harry read his letter one last time before rolling it up with a sigh. It would not get any better. Remus had warned Harry not to use Hedwig, so Harry went to give his letter to Remus to mail off for him.

He spent the night with his friends. After Ginny helped him clear the air, everyone had settled down and things had gone back to normal. He still wasn’t sure that Ron was completely okay with everything, but unless Harry was in the mood to duke it all out with him, which he wasn’t, it was best to just let things lie. And yet, he couldn’t quite let it go. After stewing on it for several days, he thought he should ask Sirius and Remus. He quietly made his way over to Sirius.

“Hey, can I talk to you guys?” he asked.

“Sure thing,” Sirius replied. “Let me grab Remus and we’ll meet you in the study.” Harry nodded and left headed to the study as his godfather went fetch his best friend and former lover. Harry was standing in front of the Christmas tree inspecting the ornaments when the two walked in.

“What’s bothering you Harry?” Remus asked, sitting on the sofa.

“Well…Ron actually,” Harry admitted.

“Ron?’ Sirius asked in confusion. “I thought everything was good with you guys?”

“Well it was for a while,” Harry explained. “But things have been off since I came out.”

“I thought he came around after a few days,” Remus asked.

“He said he did, but I can’t help but get the feeling that he’s not okay with it,” Harry said. “And then, when we were at St. Mungo’s we overheard some of the Order talking about how they think I might be being possessed by Voldemort, which I know for a fact isn’t true. And Ron should have known that too because he knows everything that’s been going on, but he was just as scared and skeptical as the rest of the Weasley’s.”

“So you’re upset that he didn’t believe you?” Remus asked.

“That, and I just have a gut feeling he’s not okay with me being gay,” Harry answered. “And I haven’t even told him about Draco yet.” Harry looked at Sirius and Remus helplessly.

“Have you tried talking to him?” Remus asked.

“No,” Harry admitted. “But I’m scared that if I do we won’t be able to reconcile and I’ll lose a friend. I already lost him once last year when he didn’t believe me about the tournament. And I know that over the summer I was the one who stopped talking to him, but there’s that too.”

Sirius and Remus exchanged a look. Remus sighed and Sirius ran his hand through his hair.

“Look, Harry,” Sirius began hesitantly. “You aren’t going to resolve this by talking to other people about it. If you truly want to get to the bottom of things, you need to talk to Ron. And if all of your worries are founded, then—and I hate to have to say this—but maybe Ron isn’t the best friend for you.”

Harry looked at Sirius in alarm. “That idea scares me,” Harry said quietly. “Ron wasn’t just the first friend I made in the wizarding world. He’s my first friend ever. And the Weasley’s, they’ve become like a family to me. If I lose Ron, I lose a lot.” He looked at them helplessly.

“Neither of us is saying this is going to be easy Harry,” Remus said, putting a hand on Harry’s shoulder. “But if you want to know where Ron stands, you need to ask him. And that can have both good and bad consequences.” Harry hung his head. “Look, Peter was one of the first people I met on the way to Hogwarts. Sirius and James hit it off immediately, but it took some time for Peter and I to be accepted. Looking back, I can see that I chose to ignore a lot of signs in favor of not losing a friend.”

“Keep in mind, we’re not saying Ron is going to turn like Peter did, because I don’t think he would, but you can’t ignore the signs if you think the friendship could be a problem,” Sirius clarified.

“No I don’t think he would ever turn,” Harry agreed. “That’s not who Ron is.”

“He can still be a good person and a not so good friend for you,” Remus explained.

Harry nodded. “I guess that makes sense,” Harry admitted. He sighed. “I suppose I’ll have to man up then.” He gave a lifeless laugh.

Sirius patted his back. “It will be better in the long run,” he assured. “Either you guys will clear the air and go back to the way it used to be, or you’ll decide it’s time to end the friendship. As sad as it is to think about, not all friendships stand the test of time.”

“And you’ll never know if you don’t take that step,” Remus added.

“You’re right,” Harry agreed. Then, a thought hit him. He didn’t see why he was the only one who had to have a hard conversation with someone he cared about. “You know, you guys could take your own advice.”

Sirius and Remus looked alarmed. “Uh, what do you mean?” Sirius asked nervously.

“Well, you won’t know whether you guys could ever be in a relationship again if you don’t talk about it,” Harry said, trying to hide his smirk and their panic.

“We have talked about this Harry,” Remus insisted.

“When?” Harry asked innocently.

“What do you mean?” Sirius countered.

“When did you last talk about it?’ Harry asked.

“We had a long conversation when I left Hogwarts,” Remus said. “We sat down and worked through a lot. That conversation is the main reason our friendship is as strong as it is.”

“Well, as good as that sounds, a lot has changed in two years,” Harry protested. “Don’t you think you guys should touch base again?” He looked between the two of them as they both refused to meet his eyes. “You’ll never know if you don’t try.”

Remus shot him with a glare. “You know, we keep saying how much like James you are, but you are so your mother’s son.” Sirius nodded solemnly and Harry burst out laughing. When he finally stopped, he saw both Sirius and Remus were smiling.

“I’ll just leave you too shall I?” With that, Harry got up and made his way out.

“I expect you to talk to Ron before break ends you little sneak!” Sirius yelled as he left. Harry laughed again. He would talk to Ron, he decided. But there was no use in ruining everyone’s holiday. The last day of break should do nicely.

***

Harry awoke on Christmas Eve to an annoying tapping sound. He put on his glasses and opened the window to find a very ordinary looking barn owl carrying a letter for him. He eagerly untied the scroll and gave the owl one of Hedwig’s treats. Hedwig hooted disapprovingly, but Harry ignored her. He was a bit embarrassed at how eager he was to read Draco’s message.

_Dear Lion,_

_Lion? Really? Were you even trying? You’re lucky this wasn’t intercepted. I don’t think anyone would have been fooled by your “cleverness.”_

_In terms of the pink she-devil, you may be right. I don’t think she could hate you anymore. But the year is not over yet. There is still plenty of time for you to annoy her, and I am sure you will not disappoint! You’ve certainly never disappointed me._

_Thank you for the apology. Though I am loath to admit it, I was a bit disappointed we did not get a proper goodbye. In lieu of doing it in person, I wish you a Merry Christmas._

_Speaking of disappointment, how dare you tease me with what could have been? I’ve always come home for the holidays. It never even occurred to me that it would be a good time for us to build our friendship uninterrupted. Much like you expressed, I too can’t help but wonder at what could have been. However, I doubt my father would have allowed me to stay even had I asked. We have many important events during the holidays, and as the Malfoy heir I am expected to attend all of them. It is exhausting, but I can’t say I don’t enjoy it. _

_I’m am sure you would disagree. There are many formal dinners and parties with what I am sure you would refer to as “stuck-up purebloods.” Perhaps it is simply because of how I was raised, but I do enjoy the business side of things. Trying to find the right words to say to both please whoever I am speaking with AND ensure that things go the way I want them to is quite thrilling._

_Of course, the part you would hate the most is that many of them are your enemies. I am almost ashamed to admit to you the kind of company I have been keeping. I have had to be on my best (worse?) behavior. I am grateful for the occlumency lessons. I believe they have come in handy._

_Of course, given the crowd I have been associating with, I obviously am aware of what happened to Arthur Weasley. Half of them boast about how close “we” came to ending him, and the other half lament that “we” did not finish the job. _

_I know that I do not know any of them personally, but there has always been hatred between the Malfoys and the Weasleys. I have no love for that family, but for your sake, I do not wish them dead. I do not know how it was managed, but I am glad your side was able to save him. You must know, that they will not stop. I am sure you don’t need me to tell your side this, but they must be careful. Everyone is growing ever more frustrated on this end, particularly the Dark Lord._

_As a parting note, I fully expect you to make up for your lack of goodbye when we return! I do believe you owe me._

_Sincerely,_

_Snake_

_P.S. If we’re being obvious with the codenames we may as well go all the way._

Harry was smiling to himself by the end. And yet, there were parts of the letter which unsettled him. As Sirius had pointed out, he was putting Draco in great danger. All of the blonde’s talk of the “other side” served as a reminder for this. Harry suddenly realized in full force how dangerous writing to Draco had been.

Draco’s words also served as a reminder of the kinds of people his crush associated with. The Slytherin had assured Harry he did not agree with their stance, and yet he enjoyed their company. How can those two things be reconciled? Could Harry overlook it?

He wasn’t sure.


	20. Ex-Friends for Christmas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The final Christmas chapter!

Christmas day dawned bright. As always, Harry was excited to receive presents, something that had been so unusual in those first eleven years. He was even more overjoyed when he noticed he had received a gift from “Sirius & Remus.”

“So I take it your conversation went well?” Harry asked with a smirk.

Remus halfheartedly smacked him over the head, but he had a small smile. “You could say that I suppose,” he said. Harry saw Sirius rub his thumb over Remus’ hand that he was covertly holding.

“And yours you little sneak?” Sirius said with a pointed look.

“I’m waiting for the day before we leave,” Harry insisted. “No need to ruin anyone’s Christmas.” Sirius eye-balled him with a look that shouted disbelief. “I’m serious!”

“No I’m Sirius,” his godfather protested with a smirk.

It was Harry’s turn to hit his godfather. He looked at Remus. “You should break up with him for that cheesy joke.”

Remus and Sirius both laughed. “He’s been making it since first year,” Remus admitted. ‘That ship has sailed.”

“You like my corny jokes,” Sirius insisted. “Don’t lie.”

Remus rolled his eyes while Harry laughed. He was happy they were happy. After breakfast, he and the Weasley’s prepared to make another visit to St. Mungo’s. He was happy to see Mr. Weasley so energetic, though he wished the older wizard had a bit more sense. Honestly, muggle stiches? He had to practically run from the room so Mrs. Weasley would not see his laughter. He certainly didn’t want any of her ire directed at him.

Fred, George, and Bill had already made a break for it, so Harry, Hermione, Ron and Ginny started off in search for the tea room. On the way, they got sidetracked by a familiar face pressed against the glass. The blonde hair and blue eyes stared back at them in amazement.

“Is that…Lockhart?” Ron asked. They exchanged surprised glances. Hermione opened the door and they walked into the ward.

“Do you want an autograph?” Lockhart asked.

“Hasn’t changed much?” Ginny remarked.

Before any of them knew what was going on, a healer had corralled them into Lockhart’s room under the false assumption they were visitors. None of them had the heart to refuse on Christmas. It was obvious that this ward was for more permanent residents. It was homier, and each patient had personal affects decorating the room. Lockhart had pictures of himself and letters across his walls. He regaled them all with his many tales from his fans, though he could not recall why he had them. As they were trying to find an excuse to leave, they heard a familiar name called out.

“Leaving so soon Mrs. Longbottom?” the healer asked.

Harry’s head swiveled around to see none other than his friend, Neville, and an older woman who was unmistakably Neville’s grandmother. He and Neville locked eyes, and in a horrible moment of realization Harry knew who his friend was here to visit. Quickly, Harry turned to try and distract his friends, but it was too late. They too had heard the familiar name and turned to look.

“Neville!” Hermione exclaimed. “What are you doing here?”

“Did you see that Lockhart’s here?” Ron asked. “Who are you visiting?” Ron and the others were trying to peer over to see who was in the beds Neville and his grandmother were walking away from.

“Are these your friends Neville?” Mrs. Longbottom asked. She peered at them from under her vulture adorned hat. “Ah, these two must be Weasleys.”

“Yes ma’am,” said Ginny.

Mrs. Longbottom peered at Harry. “And I know who you are,” she said. “Harry Potter. It is a pleasure. I’ve heard a lot about you. Was rather hoping you’d rub off on my grandson here.”

“I don’t think Neville needs to take pointers on anyone,” Harry said defensively. “I think he’s just fine on his own.”

Neville gave him a small grateful smile from behind his grandmother. Mrs. Longbottom huffed. “You’re as impertinent as they say. And you child?” she asked looking at Hermione. “Let me see, Neville mentioned a muggleborn with a funny name?”

“Hermione ma’am,” Hermione answered.

“That’s it.” A woman came shuffling from the beds Mrs. Longbottom and Neville had just walked away from. Neville’s grandmother turned towards the newcomer. “What is it Alice dear?” Neville’s mother held out her hand, and dropped what looked like a candy wrapper into Neville’s. “Another one. Yes thank you dear. Now go back to bed.” Neville’s mother turned and went back to her bed. “Throw it away Neville. You could probably plaster your wall with all the wrappers she’s given you.” Harry saw Neville tuck the wrapper into his robes.

“Who’s that Neville?” Ron asked.

“Who’s that?” Mrs. Longbottom asked. She turned to her grandson angrily. “Do your friends not know? Are you ashamed? Your parents made this sacrifice for you.”

Neville’s face grew red and he turned away. “It never came up.”

“Never came up,” Mrs. Longbottom repeated forcefully. She turned to the others. “Frank and Alice were attacked not long after You-Know-Who was vanquished. The Lestranges drove them mad.” She turned to Neville. “You should be proud boy.”

“I am,” Neville responded quietly.

“Well, you have a poor way of showing it,” she said. She turned back to the others. “Well, it was nice to meet all of you, but we must be off.”

“Oh, just a moment Mrs. Longbottom,” Harry said quickly. “I wanted a word with Neville.”

“Well make it quick,” Mrs. Longbottom responded and turned to leave the room.

Harry pulled Neville aside. He could tell the others were trying to listen, but he made sure they were out of range. “If I had had any idea you were here we would never have come,” Harry assured his friend. “We weren’t even meant to be here. We just happened to see Lockhart while looking for the tea room.”

“It’s okay,” Neville muttered. Harry raised an eyebrow. “Okay, it’s not really, but I’ll be fine. They would have likely found out eventually.” He glanced back towards his parents. “I’m not ashamed. Really I’m not. It’s just…my gran’s right. They made a big sacrifice for me…and…well…I just don’t feel that I deserve it.”

Harry grabbed Neville’s shoulder. “I know exactly what you mean,” Harry said. “But you aren’t worthless Neville. Your parents knew that, and so do I.” Neville looked up with tears in his eyes. “I should get back, and you should go meet your gran, but if you ever need to talk I’m here.”

“Thank you Harry,” Neville said quietly. Harry gave his friend a hug before letting him leave. He watched Neville walk out and felt angry at the world for the injustice that had been done to both of them. But now was not the time, so Harry packed away his resentment and turned back towards his friends.

“What was that about?” Ron asked.

“I wanted to speak to Neville in private,” Harry said tersely. “Come on. We should head back to your parents.”

The group was quiet until they neared Mr. Weasley’s room.

“I had no idea about Neville’s parents,” Hermione said.

“Me either,” echoed both Ron and Ginny. The three of them all looked at Harry.

“I did,” he admitted.

“Of course you did,” Ron muttered.

Harry stopped and turned on Ron. “Do you have a problem with that?” he asked.

“Well, it just seems like there are things you’re not telling us,” Ron said.

“It wasn’t my secret to tell,” Harry said. “And it is of no consequence to you at any rate. If Neville had wanted anyone to know he would have told us himself.”

“Well if Neville didn’t tell you then how did you know?” Ron demanded.

“Ron…” Hermione began.

“Not that it is any of your concern, but I accidently found out about it when I viewed something in Dumbledore’s pensive,” Harry explained. “He told me what happened, and I swore not to say anything. Neville found out I knew earlier this year, when he attacked Malfoy. He attacked him because Malfoy was making fun of the mentally ill, and as you can see that is a touchy subject for Neville. Good enough for you?”

Ron huffed, and Harry turned and stalked the rest of the way to Mr. Weasley’s room. He didn’t speak to Ron for the remainder of the day. By the following morning, it seemed as though perhaps Hermione or Ginny had spoken to him, and the two pretended nothing had been amiss. Harry knew speaking to Sirius and Remus would only give him the same advice they already had.

And the farther away from Christmas they went, the gloomier Sirius became. Remus had been spending quite a lot of time at Grimmauld Place, but he had responsibilities for the Order he needed to get back too. Harry and the others would of course be returning to Hogwarts. Much like the summer, Harry felt he’d almost rather stay here with Sirius. But he knew that he couldn’t. Plus, Sirius had managed to get himself a boyfriend. Harry still had work to do on that front. Two days before they were set to leave, Harry made sure to spend as much time as possible with his godfather.

“It won’t be that bad,” Harry said, rather unconvincingly.

“If you had the memories I have from this house,” Sirius protested. “Well, I’d almost rather be in Azkaban.” He gave Harry a small nudge and smile. “Almost.”

“We have the two-way mirrors,” Harry reminded him. “I’ll try to remember to use it more often.”

Sirius looked at Harry. “You should be worried about living your life,” he said. “Not mine. I’ll be okay.”

“I just wish you didn’t have to be locked up here,” Harry said.

“That makes two of us,” Sirius said with a humorless laugh. He clapped Harry on the back. “But I will survive. Besides, I have Remus back now. He’ll come visit more often. And, we have the summer to look forward to now!”

“The summer?” Harry asked.

“I promised you that you would never have to go back to the Dursley’s and I meant it,” Sirius explained. “I don’t care what Dumbledore or anyone else says. You’ll come back here and stay with me.” He raised an eyebrow at his godson. “If that’s still what you want?”

“Of course that’s what I want!” Harry exclaimed.

***

Harry’s good mood lasted until that evening, when Snape arrived right as they were finishing supper.

“What do you want Sniv…” Sirius began.

“Stop Sirius,” Harry interrupted. He gave his godfather a pointed look. “Snape said he might come over during break for a lesson.” Harry turned to his professor. “I had assumed by now that you weren’t coming.”

“I’ve been busy,” Snape said. “And I will continue to be when we return to school. I am free tonight, and I wanted to meet with you. I don’t know when we will be able to meet next.” Harry nodded. He said his goodnights to the others and led Snape upstairs to his room.

“Shall we begin?” Harry asked.

“Have you been practicing?” Snape asked as he took out his wand.

“I’ve been clearing my mind every night,” Harry said. “I haven’t had any visions, dreams, or feelings since the night Mr. Weasley was attacked.”

“How do you feel about that?” Snape asked.

“I worked through it with Sirius and Remus,” Harry said.

“Good,” Snape said. “I was hoping you weren’t lingering on it. Get ready.” Like usual, Snape did not really give Harry time to get ready. This time, however, Harry had the foresight to begin preparing his mind the moment they entered the room. No doubt, this is what Snape had been trying to get across all along. Damn the cryptic potions master. Couldn’t he just say what he wanted?

Snape started flitting through Harry’s mind. Harry thought he was doing rather well. Snape was unable to focus on one particular memory. He kept it up for about a minute, before exiting Harry’s mind.

“You’re improving,” he said.

“Thank you,” Harry said.

“I noticed you had another box,” Snape said.

“Oh yeah,” Harry said. “I had forgotten. Hermione suggested I hide my memories of you working for the Order. This way, if Voldemort does get into my head, he won’t find out about you.”

“Well, Granger certainly has her moments,” Snape said. “But it will only work if you can hold it. I’m going to try to break in. Prepare yourself.”

Again, Harry had been preparing himself as they talked, so when Snape entered his mind he was not caught off guard. This time, Snape was relentless. He put everything into opening the box. While this was happening, a memory floated past and momentarily distracted Snape. Harry noticed this, and tried to distract Snape some more with other memories. It was working. The last one Harry threw at him was inadvertently Mr. Weasley’s attack. As he saw that oh-so familiar corridor, he was met with a sudden realization, but he kept it to himself.

With his own mind distracted, it was no surprise when Snape succeeded in opening the box. When he left Harry’s mind, Harry was drenched in sweat. He sat down on his bed to catch his breath. Snape sat down on the other end.

“That was very impressive,” Snape said.

“But you got in,” Harry protested between breaths.

“Yes, well I am very good,” Snape said with a small smile. Harry rolled his eyes. “A lesser legilimens would have given up, especially when you started throwing other memories.”

“Voldemort won’t stop.”

“No,” Snape agreed. “He won’t. But you had the right idea.” Harry looked up at him. “When you started trying to distract me with other memories. I didn’t want to tell you this at first. Both because you were not ready and because I wanted to see if you would get there on your own. One of the best ways to beat someone entering your mind, particularly if you know that person is stronger than you, is to distract them. When I look into your mind, if you distract me with unimportant memories, I may not notice that you are trying to hide something.”

Harry nodded. “I’ll give that a go next time,” Harry said. The two were silent for a moment. “I have a question. I don’t always have these dreams, but when I do they are at their most potent. What I mean is that I don’t normally know what Voldemort is feeling, even if I wanted to, but when he has a particularly powerful moment, that is when I feel it.”

“I don’t see a question,” Snape said.

“Is it bad if I can prevent everything else except for those most powerful moments?” he asked. “If I can stop visions and dreams, but every now and again I see something like what happened to Mr. Weasley? Is that bad?”

“The honest answer is that it depends,” Snape said. “So long as Voldemort doesn’t know about your connection then none of it matters. What we are doing is a precautionary measure. I would say, that so long as you can prevent visions from being implanted in your head, it is alright. If you truly only get those fleeting glimpses in certain moments, but you can prevent visions from being shown to you, then you should be fine.”

Harry nodded. “I’ll keep practicing then,” he said.

“See that you do,” Snape said. With a nod in Harry’s direction, he got up and left. Harry listened to Snape walk down the stairs and considered the revelation that had struck him. He couldn’t believe it had took so long. The corridor wasn’t familiar because he had dreamed about it so much. It was familiar because he had seen it in person.

The corridor Voldemort was fixated on was the Department of Mysteries.

***

Harry didn’t have much time to dwell on his newest revelation because before he knew it, it was the day before they returned to Hogwarts. He knew he needed to speak to Ron, and he couldn’t put it off any longer. There was no other way to resolve the ever growing tension between them. Harry waited until after lunch before pulling Ron aside to talk. The two went to Ron’s room—the one he should have shared with Harry.

“Is everything alright Harry?” Ron asked. Harry could tell he was nervous. Whether it was because he sensed the conversation that was coming or that he didn’t want to be alone with Harry, it was hard to tell.

“Well, that’s exactly what I want to try and figure out,” Harry said.

“What do you mean?” Ron said while crossing his arms. Harry wasn’t sure, but he thought his friend seemed a bit defensive.

“Well…it just seems like things have been rocky between us for a while, and I would like to see if we can resolve it,” Harry explained.

“Yeah, well that’s what happen when your best friend abandons you for something outside of his control,” Ron retorted.

Harry’s eyes widened in surprise. He had not expected Ron to be so aggressive so quickly. But two could play that game. “Yes. Yes it is,” Harry agreed. “So why did you do that to me last year?”

“What!?” Ron exclaimed. “What in the bloody hell are you on about?”

“You know,” Harry said. “Last year, when my name came out of the cup, and you got mad and stopped being my friend. Over something I had no control over.” Harry watched as Ron’s face got even redder than it already was.

“That’s not what I was talking about,” Ron said.

“Really?” Harry asked in mock confusion. “That’s the only incident I can think of that fits the scenario you described.”

“I was talking about when you got angry with Hermione and I over the summer,” Ron spat out.

“But you had control over that,” Harry insisted. “You _chose _to do what the adults told you to, but you _could_ have told me what was going on if you had wanted. Last year, I had nothing to do with being entered into the Triwizard Tournament and you abandoned me anyway.”

“Well how was I supposed to know you didn’t have anything to do with it?!” Ron shouted.

“Because I told you I didn’t!” Harry shouted back. “I’m your friend and I told you I didn’t put my name in the cup and you still didn’t believe me! And that seems to be a pattern!”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Ron exclaimed.

“Well, just last week you didn’t believe me when I told you I wasn’t being possessed by Voldemort,” Harry explained. “How can I trust a friend who doesn’t even trust me?”

“Oh you’re one to talk about trust!” said Ron.

“Excuse me?” Harry asked.

“You’re keeping secrets!” Ron said. “You didn’t tell us about Neville! You’re always having private conversations! You don’t come to me like you used to!”

“First off, Neville’s secret was Neville’s,” Harry said in defense. “It wasn’t my secret to tell. Second, I’m allowed to have conversations with other people. I’m allowed to have other friends, and I don’t have to clear everything with you first or tell you word for word what I’m saying when you’re not there! Third, how can I come to you when I can’t trust you?!”

“It used to be us,” Ron said angrily. “Now it’s all these other people.”

“Yeah that’s called growing up!” Harry shouted. “It’s called making friends. You’re allowed to make friends too Ron. I don’t need to ask your permission to be friends with someone, particularly if that person is a better friend than you are!”

“Oh really?” Ron said.

“Well I don’t remember Neville having a fit when I told him I was gay!” Harry yelled.

“Well maybe Neville’s gay too!” Ron yelled back.

“Are you being serious right now?” Harry asked in disbelief. “Are you trying to say a bloke can’t be okay with another bloke being gay unless he is too?”

“Well it’s weird!” Ron yelled.

“No it’s not,” Harry said, trying to blink back his tears. “It’s perfectly normal.”

“It’s not,” Ron insisted.

“Well if that’s how you feel, then why don’t you go find some normal friends to spend your time with,” Harry said. He was still fighting the tears. He wasn’t going to lose it in front of Ron. Not now.

Ron looked at Harry hard. “Maybe I will,” he said.

“Fine.”

“Fine.”

With that final word, Harry knew his very first friendship was over. He calmly walked out of the room, with his head held high. As soon as the door was shut, he made a run for his own room. The door had barely shut before the tears started to flow. He couldn’t quite comprehend what had just happened. Not a moment later, there was a brief knock on the door before it opened.

Harry swung around, but quickly relaxed when he saw it was just Sirius and Remus. His godfather did not hesitate before enveloping Harry in a tight hug. Harry didn’t know what he was going to do going forward, but in the moment, having his godfather was exactly what he needed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have to admit, that when I began this story, I did not have the intention to end Harry & Ron's friendship permanently. But as the story progressed, this is just what felt natural. Who knows? Maybe they will reconcile later in the year.


	21. Blonds Versus Brunettes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't even get to finish half of what I had planned for this chapter! Now I have to push that back to the next, and then push more stuff back, and...well you get it. This story might end up being a few chapters longer than I had originally planned. Darn right? lol
> 
> In other news, trouble is afoot!

The following morning was a bit awkward. Harry stayed in his room until the last minute to avoid any confrontations. Eventually, though, he had to make his way downstairs. It was a tense journey to the train station. Hermione sat on one side of him and Ginny on the other, but neither said a word. Ron stayed as far away as possible and the twins kept shooting both of them weird looks.

When they finally made it to the platform, Hermione grabbed Harry’s arm and said, “Let’s go.” Harry let her drag him onto the train and into an empty compartment. As soon as they were inside, she shut the door.

“Are you alright?” Hermione asked.

“Not really,” Harry admitted. “How much do you know?”

“Just that you fought,” Hermione answered. “Ron tried to explain himself after you left, but he was about to tell everyone you were gay, which isn’t his right. So I interrupted him and yelled at him for trying to tell others about private matters, and he got mad at me too. He wouldn’t be in the room alone with me so that I could ask. But the good news is that the others got the message and didn’t ask either.”

Harry sat down and rubbed his face. “I suppose you want answers from me then?”

Hermione sat across from Harry and grabbed his hand. “Do I want to know what happened? Yes. Will I force it out of you if you aren’t ready? No. Just know if you need to talk I am here. I know enough about what’s been going on to deduce the gist of your argument. Ron’s a git.”

Harry sighed. “Thanks Hermione.” Hermione gave him a soft smile, which was followed by a knock on the door. They turned to see Ginny and Neville on the other side. Harry motioned for them to come in a Ginny opened the door.

“Everything alright in here?” she asked.

“Oh, everything’s fine,” Harry answered. “We’ve just come to the conclusion that Ron is a git.”

“Well, that’s not exactly news,” Ginny countered. She and Neville sat down after shutting the door. “I don’t know what your argument was about, but I don’t need to know that to know Ron was probably wrong.”

“So…are you and Ron not friends anymore?” Neville asked.

“It looks that way,” Harry said.

“Wow,” Neville said in shock. “I’m sorry Harry.”

“Yeah me to,” Harry said quietly. “But if I’m being honest it’s been coming for a while.” He put his head back against the seat. “Ever since I fought with him and Hermione over the summer things have been off. Finding out I’m gay just made things worse.” If Harry’s announcement shocked Ginny, she didn’t let it show. Nor she did say anything.

“I’m sure he’ll come around,” Neville said.

“I don’t think so,” Harry said. “Not this time. And honestly, I’m not sure I’d forgive him if he did.”

They talked quietly for some time. The three others filling Neville in on their Christmas and their sudden departure. Neville reciprocated, but he didn’t have much to say about his break. Eventually, Harry stood up and announced he was going to stretch his legs. He made it past three compartments before he ran into the twins and Lee Jordan.

“Hey Harry hang back a minute!” Fred called out. Harry reluctantly entered the compartment.

“We just wanted to say that even though we aren’t certain what exactly you and Ron were fighting about, we know enough to know he was wrong,” George said.

“Yeah mate,” Fred chimed in. “We wanted to let you know we are on your side.”

Harry gazed out the window. “Ron’s your brother,” Harry said. “This is between me and him. I didn’t intend for it to affect his family.”

“We don’t plan on abandoning him,” Fred said.

“Though we did debate kicking him off the train,” George said.

“But what he did tell us about your fight Hermione said was bullshit,” Fred explained.

Harry sighed. “I appreciate the support,” he said. “But bothering Ron will only make things worse. I just want to move on.”

“If you say so mate,” Fred said. “But if it comes down to it, we’re on your side.” George nodded, so Harry thanked them and made a hasty exit. He decided to just head back to his own compartment. He didn’t want to chance running into Ron and certainly wasn’t in the mood to speak to anyone else.

He left so quickly he didn’t bother to watch where he was going. He hadn’t made it two steps down the corridor before barreling into something, or he should say someone, solid.

“Shit,” Harry said as his hands shot out to steady the person he had just attempted to knock over. “I’m so sorry—” Harry broke off as he looked up to meet a pair of startled brown eyes, under a soft bed of brown hair. Harry recognized him immediately. “Andrew? Right?”

Andrew looked startled that Harry knew his name. “Um, yes.”

“I’m so sorry for running into you,” Harry said earnestly. “I wasn’t watching where I was going. Are you alright?”

“Yea,” Andrew said a bit nervously. “I mean yes. I’m fine…uh, Potter.”

“Call me Harry,” Harry insisted as he finally removed his hands from Andrew’s shoulders, now certain he was okay. “And I’m sorry again. My head was in the clouds.”

“Does that mean you’re as looney as they say?” Andrew asked.

Harry was taken aback, but then he noticed the small smile on Andrew’s face and the laughter he was trying to hold in. Suddenly, Harry realized the other boy was joking with him. “Absolutely,” he replied. “Complete nutter actually.” At this, Andrew finally let go his laughter.

“Obviously,” he replied. He looked down at his hands before looking back at Harry. “Uh…I guess I should head back to my compartment. My friends are probably wondering where I’ve gone.”

“Oh, of course!” Harry said, realizing he was blocking the path. “I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to keep you here.”

“It was no trouble,” Andrew responded making his way past Harry.

“See you around?” Harry asked hesitantly.

Andrew looked at him in silence for a moment, before smiling and saying “Sure…Harry.”

Harry felt a bit lighter as he headed back to his compartment. As he arrived, he saw Draco standing outside a compartment a little past his, just staring at him. Harry gave him a small smile, but Draco walked inside without returning it. Harry shrugged, and returned to his friends.

***

The next day saw Harry fending off the majority of the D.A. If he was being honest, so much had happened over break he had not given any thought to the next meeting.

“Pay attention to your coins,” Harry kept saying. “We’ll do something later this week.”

The first day flew by quickly. It was hard to avoid Ron completely given they shared a dorm room and all of their classes, but Harry did his best. The last thing he wanted was to start trouble. Confused and curious looks were sent his way every time he and Ron were in the same room and studiously avoided each other. Well, Harry avoided. Ron sent glares, which Harry, Hermione, and Neville ignored.

Harry could feel Ron’s eyes on him as the three of them walked into transfiguration. Harry was looking anywhere but at his former best friend. In doing so, he met a now familiar pair of brown eyes. With Ron’s eyes on his back, Harry let out a genuine grin.

“Hey Andrew,” Harry said. “Long time no see.”

Andrew laughed, and Harry thought he saw a light blush on the other boy’s cheeks. Perhaps Cho knew what she was talking about.

“Hey Harry,” Andrew said. “Good first day?”

“It’s not the worst,” Harry answered, taking a seat at the table next to Andrew’s. “You?”

“Pretty good,” Andrew responded.

Their conversation abruptly ended as Professor McGonagall began class. Hermione raised an eyebrow at Harry, and he motioned that he would explain after class. Yet, when class finally ended, and idea struck Harry.

“Hey Hermione, do you have an extra coin on you?” Harry asked. Hermione fished one out of her bag and gave it to him with a question on her lips, but Harry cut her off. “You guys go on ahead. I’ll catch up in a moment and explain.” Harry turned towards the small group of Ravenclaws. “Hey Andrew!” The boy turned around. When he saw Harry coming towards him, he stopped and let his own group of friends keep walking.

“Yeah Harry?” Andrew asked.

“I was wondering,” Harry said quietly, looking around to make sure no one was in earshot. “We have a little group going. You know, to supplement certain underwhelming classes.”

“My friends and I had heard rumors,” Andrew admitted. “But no one ever told us directly.”

“Well here’s the direct information,” Harry said. He handed the other boy the coin. “When the date changes that will tell you when to meet. Ask Cho for directions.”

“Wow, thanks Harry!” Andrew said excitedly. “I can’t wait.”

“If you think your friends can keep a secret, you are welcome to bring them with you,” Harry added. The brunette nodded, and Harry smiled at him. “I have to go, but I’ll see you around yeah?”

“Absolutely,” Andrew agreed. Once more, Harry walked away with a bit of a bounce in his step.

“What was that about?” Hermione asked when Harry had caught up with them.

Harry looked around for the second time that day to make sure no one was listening. “Well, when I finally told Cho that I was gay, she was kind enough to mention that she thought a certain Ravenclaw in my year might have the same inclinations,” he explained. “Now maybe I’m just reading into things and Andrew Brown is just extremely friendly, but I’m starting to think she was right.”

“So you invited him to join the D.A.?” Neville asked. Harry nodded.

“That was dangerous Harry,” Hermione said. “How do you know we can trust him?”

“I just had a gut feeling okay Hermione,” Harry said. “Besides, he said he had already heard rumors. He just had never received a formal initiation. Besides, Cho is the one who put me onto him. I don’t think she would have done that if he weren’t trustworthy.”

“I’m just saying, you are taking a big risk for a pretty face,” Hermione. Harry rolled his eyes, but said nothing.

Later, in their double-potions, Harry saw Draco for the first time since the train. They had not had time to meet, but it was only the first day back. He tried to subtly get Draco’s attention, but the boy refused to look at him. Harry was slightly worried, but he didn’t have a chance to discuss it with the blond as there were too many people around.

After dinner, he joined Hermione and Neville in the library to complete the stacks of homework they had already received.

“I’m going to make myself a study schedule for now until exam time,” Hermione announced. “Would you guys like me to make one for each of you?”

“That sounds great Hermione!” Neville exclaimed, always happy for the help.

“You’re welcome to it,” Harry said with a laugh. “But I can’t promise I’ll keep to it.” Neville joined in on the laughter as Hermione shot him a glare. “Speaking of schedules, when should our next D.A. meeting be?”

“What about Thursday?” Hermione suggested. “I think that’s our easiest day for classes, so we should have time for both a meeting and homework!”

“Joy,” Harry said dryly, has Neville stifled even more laughter. Harry went ahead and changed the date on his galleon to let the rest of the members know when to meet.

Later that evening, Neville and Harry made their way to their dorm room. Ron, Seamus, and Dean were all in the common room, but Harry ignored them. Seamus and Dean stared between Harry and Ron as the two of them adamantly ignored one another. As Harry made it into the dorm room, he fell to his knees as his scar suddenly burned viciously.

He could hear maniacal laughter…he had never felt so happy…so jubilant…the best news…

“Harry? HARRY!”

Someone had hit him in the face. The laughter in his ears died down, and when his eyes could focus he finally saw Neville’s worried face staring back at him. His scar was still throbbing, but he could feel the eyes’ of the other’s on his back.

“Sorry,” he gasped out.

“Was it You-Know-Who?” Neville asked in a whisper.

“Yeah,” Harry answered. “He’s happy. Really happy.”

“About what?”

“I don’t know,” Harry admitted. “But I’m not sure I want to find out.”

***

It didn’t take long for him to get an answer. He filled Hermione in as they made their way to the Great Hall for breakfast. There, they found out the reason for Voldemort’s glee: a mass Azkaban breakout.

“Well that certainly explains what he was happy about,” Hermione remarked. Harry wasn’t listening. He was torn between getting angry at the ministry for trying to pin the breakout on Sirius, and worrying about his best friend. One of the biggest names on the list was none other than Bellatrix Lestrange.

“Are you alright?” he asked Neville quietly, as the other boy just stared at the paper.

“I don’t know,” Neville answered.

“I’ve got your back Neville,” Harry said. “Whatever you need.” Neville nodded silently. “And whatever happens, we’ll make sure you are ready.” His friend looked him in the eyes, and Harry could see the resolve fall into place.

“Yes we will.”

Harry spent most of the day keeping an eye out for a certain blond. He finally saw them as they were eating supper. Harry made eye contact, and tilted his head just the smallest amount towards the door. To his delight, Draco did not ignore him this time, but gave the smallest of nods back. Harry told his friends he would meet up later, and quickly dodged Angelina as she reminded him of practice later that week. He made his way to the usual meeting spot, and waited for Draco to join him. He had to wait about five minutes.

“I thought you weren’t going to come,” Harry remarked when Draco finally arrived.

“I almost didn’t,” Draco said quietly.

Harry raised a brow. “Why?’ he asked. “Is everything okay? I thought I was supposed to make up for not saying goodbye?”

“You seemed to have other things on your mind,” Draco remarked dryly.

“Uh…I would supply a witty remark, but I don’t know what you are referring to,” Harry said. At that, Draco seemed to soften.

“It’s nothing,” he said with a sigh. “I’m sorry. I’m just a little tense at the moment.”

“Does this have anything to do with the Azkaban break out?” Harry asked, leaning against the wall.

“Yeah,” Draco answered quietly.

“We’re not exactly happy about that either,” Harry said. “Much less happy about the fact that they are blaming my godfather.”

“Well at least you know he’s innocent!” Draco exclaimed. “I have to associate with these people, knowing exactly what they’ve done. I bet my Aunt Bella will even live with us! I’m just lucky it happen after the holidays.”

“Aunt Bella!?” Harry asked in shock.

“Bellatrix Lestrange was originally Bellatrix Black,” Draco explained. “You know, my mother’s sister?”

“Your mom was a Black?” Harry asked. “You’re related to Sirius?”

Draco rolled his eyes. “He and my mom are cousins.”

“Wow,” Harry said. “I didn’t know that.”

“Yeah well, now you do,” Draco said sourly. “And lucky me.”

“Sorry,” Harry said. “I wish I could help.”

_“You could stop flirting with Ravenclaws that would help,” Draco muttered too low for Harry to hear._

“I’m sorry?” Harry asked. “I didn’t catch that.”

“Nothing,” Draco muttered.

“It didn’t sound like nothing,” Harry retorted.

“I said maybe if you weren’t busy flaunting yourself to nobody Ravenclaws you could find a way to help!” Draco exclaimed.

“What!?” Harry asked, truly baffled. “What are you talking about?”

“You know what,” Draco said, refusing to meet Harry’s eyes.

Harry’s eyes widened when he realized what Draco had to be talking about. “Are you mad that I was talking to Andrew Brown?” Draco glared at him. “Why would you be mad about that?”

“You were practically throwing yourself at him,” Draco protested.

“Throwing myself at him!” Harry exclaimed. “I accidently ran into the bloke! I apologized! How is that in any way flaunting?”

“You couldn’t have possibly been more obvious,” Draco insisted.

“About what?” Harry asked.

“You know what,” Draco continued. “You may have well just snogged him right there in the middle of the train.”

“Snog—are you implying what I think you are?” Harry asked in disbelief. Draco was silent. “You are! You’re mad because you think I’m gay?”

“Of course not,” Draco protested. “Contrary to your presumptions about purebloods, some of us are not so uptight about those things.”

“Well if you’re not mad that I’m gay, why does it bother you that I was talking to Andrew?” Harry asked.

“So you admit you are gay?” Draco asked.

Harry blushed. _Shit._ “Well…yes, but I assumed you had already worked that out for yourself,” Harry said. “But you haven’t answered the question. Why would me talking to Andrew bother you?”

“Well…it’s just…inappropriate?” Draco stuttered.

Harry raised an eyebrow. “Is that really what you’re going to go with?”

“Yes,” Draco said with false confidence.

“Fine,” Harry said. “I guess I’ll just stop bothering you if I’m so inappropriate.” Before Draco could respond, Harry swept from the room. His head was spinning. Draco had to be upset because he had feelings for Harry…right? If he isn’t upset with me just being gay, then that is the only other thing it can be right?

Well, if he won’t say it out loud, I won’t waste my time, Harry thought.

The very next day, it just so happened that right after Harry had just overheard Lavender and Parvati remarking on the fact that the next Hogsmeade trip fell on Valentine’s Day that he saw none other than Andrew Brown standing with his friends in the same corridor as Draco Malfoy. He and Draco made eye contact and a surge of anger ran through Harry.

Draco could have Harry, if only he just admitted what he was truly angry about. Instead he tried to make Harry ashamed of his completely innocent actions. Well Harry would show Draco what throwing himself at someone looked like. Filling himself with all of that famous Gryffindor courage and recklessness, he did what was probably the stupidest thing he had ever done, and that was saying a lot. After shooting a pointed glare at Draco, he marched himself over to Andrew.

“Hey Andrew!” Harry said enthusiastically.

“Oh hi Harry!” Andrew responded, as his friends look on. “How are you?”

“I’m great!” Harry said. “I was just thinking about the next Hogsmeade trip, which is apparently on Valentine’s Day.”

“Yeah we were just talking about that earlier,” Andrew said.

Feeling the eyes of Draco on his back, Harry pushed on. “Well, I was just wondering if you would like to go with me?”

Andrew’s eyes grew wide, as did the eyes of his friends. “Would…would that be a date?” Andrew asked.

“Yes,” Harry said with confidence he didn’t quite feel. “Yes it would.”

Andrew blushed. He appeared to be in shock for a moment. It took one of his friends nudging him to remind the brunette he had been asked a question. “Oh—sorry! I mean…yes,” he stuttered out. “Yes I would love to go with you!”

“Great!” Harry exclaimed. He could see Hermione and Neville standing in shock off to the side, and he suddenly realized that the entire hallway was staring at him. “Well, I’ll…see you around then?”

“Yea,” Andrew responded. “Yes. Absolutely.”

Harry gave Andrew a small smile and gestured to his friends to walk away with him. He waited until they were in a different corridor before speeding up, now uncomfortable with all the attention.

“What was that about?” Hermione asked.

“I’d rather not talk about it at the moment,” Harry said breathlessly.

“But—” Hermione protested.

“Look Hermione, I had one of those moments where I acted on impulse and didn’t stop to think about it so can we please talk about this later once I’ve had a moment to process?”

Harry was sure he others could hear his heart beating. He wasn’t sure what was about to happen now, but at least the one comfort was that he had a date out of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't hate me! What's a love story without a love rival and a little tension??


	22. Consequences

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning for LBGTQ slurs in this chapter.   
Also, many of you commented that you felt bad for Andrew for being used. While I won’t lie, what Harry is did was definitely not smart, it was never my attention to just have Harry use someone else. I hope these next two chapters make you all feel a little better about the situation. Of course, it’s still not Drarry, so how good can it be amiright?

Harry had to admit he was not mentally present in any of his classes for the rest of the day. On the one hand, he was happy he had a date with a boy who seemed genuinely excited to have a date with him. On the other hand, he had basically just outed himself to the entire school because Draco Malfoy had made him mad. Word spread quickly, and by the time he had finished his last class of the day it seemed everyone knew. No matter where he was Harry was met with stares and whispers. He stopped dead in his tracks as he realized how unbearable the Great Hall would be.

“Uhh, I don’t think I’m hungry,” he said and turned on his heel, only to stop as he wasn’t sure where exactly to go.

“Oh come on,” Hermione said as she grabbed his arm and started dragging him down the hall. Neville followed behind the two of them. Hermione shepherded them into an empty classroom and closed and locked the door. Harry took a breath of relief and sank into the nearest chair. Hermione looked at him with her hands on her hips. “So, do you want to tell us what all that was about?”

Harry looked up at his best friend desperately. “I did something stupid.”

“Well, yes that has been established,” Hermione responded. She plopped herself down next to him. Neville calmly sat on the other side.

“So what exactly happened?” Neville asked. “How long have you liked Andrew?”

“Umm…”

“Harry,” Hermione said disapprovingly. “You do like Andrew right?”

“Well,” Harry stalled, “He is very cute. And he seems incredibly friendly.”

“But?”

“Well, I don’t really know him that well outside of those two things,” Harry said.

“Then why did you ask him out?” Neville asked confused.

“Um…well…you see,” Harry stuttered. “The thing is…I do like someone…and that person sort of…made me mad.”

“Harry James Potter are you telling me you asked out a boy for revenge on another boy!” Hermione yelled. Harry refused to meet her eyes. Next thing he knew, a sharp thump arrived to the back of his head.

“OW!” he exclaimed.

“Well you deserved it!” Hermione insisted.

“It kind of sounds like you did Harry,” Neville agreed.

Harry sighed. “Yeah I know,” he said. “I don’t intend to use Andrew honestly. He really is cute. And nice.” He looked up at his friends. “I won’t lead him on I swear. I mean, how will I know if I like him if we don’t go out? Right?”

“And if you decide you don’t like him?” Hermione asked.

“I will tell him and move one,” Harry said. “Promise. I am interested I swear. I just…well I wouldn’t have done what I did if I wasn’t mad.”

“So…who was it?” Neville asked.

Harry looked up at the expectant faces of his friends. “I didn’t want to tell you guys because I know you won’t like it.”

Hermione sighed. “Well, we certainly won’t force you to tell us, but you need to be careful Harry. The entire school knows now. How do you feel about that?”

“Nauseous,” Harry answered. “This is not how I imagined things going down. How do you think they’re reacting?”

“I can’t speak for the rest of the school,” Neville said. “But I would think the people who supported you before likely still will. There may be a few who feel the same as Ron, but I can’t see them switching sides for it.”

“Neville’s probably right,” Hermione said. “But it’s just another storm you’ll have to weather Harry.”

“But we’re here for you,” Neville added.

“Thanks guys.”

Harry decided to skip dinner and hole himself up in his dorm room, away from prying eyes. As soon as he was sure the room was empty, he pulled out his two-way mirror and called for his godfather. In a few seconds, Sirius’ face was before him.

“That was fast,” Sirius remarked. “Ron causing trouble?”

“No,” Harry said. “He’s just been ignoring me.”

“That’s probably for the best,” Sirius remarked. “So what’s up kiddo?”

“Uhh…well…you see…I may have outed myself to the entire school because Draco pissed me off,” Harry answered sheepishly.

Sirius’ eyes grew wide and his jaw dropped. “You did what?” he asked when he finally regained his composure.

“I…outed myself,” Harry responded.

Sirius rubbed his face. “I’m going to need details.”

“So you remember how I had to tell Cho that I was gay to explain why I didn’t like her?” Harry asked. Sirius nodded. “Well, she was kind enough to point me in the direction of a Ravenclaw in my year named Andrew Brown.”

Sirius raised an eyebrow. “You never mentioned that,” he remarked. “I thought you were hooked on Malfoy?”

“I am,” Harry said. “But there’s so many complications, that I was grateful for Cho. It was almost like a back-up plan you know?”

“Uh huh,” Sirius said. “So…you just went for it?”

“Well, I only just met him on the train back,” Harry explained. “I literally ran into him. And he’s really cute, and he also seems really nice. I wasn’t sure if I was reading into things at first, but it seemed like Cho’s assumption might have been right. And, well…Draco saw us talking a few times and got mad about it.”

“Why would that make him upset?” Sirius asked. “Does he like you too?”

“Well that’s what I thought!” Harry exclaimed. “He wouldn’t give me a straight answer. I mean, that’s the only thing it can be right?”

“I don’t pretend to understand how the Malfoy brain works,” Sirius said. “But personally, I don’t see any other option.”

“Me neither,” Harry agreed. “And he was going on about me throwing myself at Andrew, and well…I saw them both in the same hallway and I sort of just…you know…”

“Acted impulsively?” Sirius asked.

“Maybe,” Harry answered.

“So what exactly did you do?” Sirius asked.

“Well, the next Hogsmeade’s trip is on Valentine’s Day,” Harry began.

“Oh Harry,” Sirius said with a laugh. “Don’t say it.”

“I may have…marched right up to Andrew and asked him to go with me,” Harry admitted bashfully. At this, Sirius burst out laughing. “It’s not funny!”

“It kind of is,” Sirius wheezed through his laughter. “Did he at least say yes?”

“He did!” Harry exclaimed as Sirius wiped tears from his eyes. “So you know, at least I got a date out of it right?”

Sirius was still laughing, albeit a little more quietly. “There’s always a silver lining,” he agreed. “How did the school take it?”

At that Harry sobered up. “There was a lot of stares and whispers,” he said. “But I didn’t have the courage to stick around to find out.”

His godfather sighed. “I don’t think it will make much of a difference in terms of whose side people are on,” he said. “But those who are already against you will just have more ammunition. Especially the purebloods. They won’t look lightly on this.”

“I know,” Harry said. “But in a way, it’s good right? I don’t have to hide anymore?” He looked to his godfather for reassurance.

“As someone who also had to come out,” Sirius explained, “I think that yes, it will be a good thing in the long run, but you will have to take a lot of shit for it now.” Harry nodded quietly. “Lean on your friends Harry. This is when you will need them the most.” Harry nodded again. “And just know that whenever you need me, I’m here.”

“Thanks Sirius,” Harry answered.

“Don’t mention it kid,” Sirius said.

Harry made sure to clear his head before going to bed. It was hard, probably the hardest time he had ever had of it, but if there was any day he didn’t want intrusive thoughts, it was this one.

***

The next morning, Harry, flanked by Hermione, Neville, and all the Weasley’s except Ron, made his way down to breakfast. The others assured Harry that they had scoped out the house, and it appeared that the majority of Gryffindor was fine with the news of Harry’s sexuality. It gave Harry a small sense of relief and a bit of extra courage.

Of course, the morning’s Daily Prophet had to rain on the parade with a front page article: THE BOY WHO LIKES BOYS! Harry wasn’t sure how they had gotten the information, nor how they had spoken to students so quickly. Several Slytherins had expressed disapproval of having a gay classmate, and so had several of their parents. Although, Harry was happy to note there was no mention of Andrew. He had no desire to drag the other boy into his mess. Well, any further into it.

It seemed, however, that his friends’ assessment of Gryffindor house had been correct. His classmates immediately began picking apart the article, even making fun of those who had spoken out against them. The table quickly devolved into laughter. Soon Harry felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned to see Cho and Luna both standing behind him.

“Hey guys!” Harry said brightly.

“Glad to see you’re in a good mood,” Cho responded.

“It helps having good friends,” Harry said, gesturing to the table. “Oh, and I guess I owe you a thanks for the tip!”

“Happy to assist!” Cho said. “Glad everything worked out.”

“I was a bit surprised,” Luna chimed in. “Given our previous conversation. But I’m happy for you none the less.”

“Thanks Luna,” Harry said.

“We also wanted to let you know,” Cho added, “that those of us in Ravenclaw who supported you before, still do. This doesn’t change anything.”

“Thanks guys,” Harry said. “That means a lot. It takes some weight off.”

“Yes, that was the idea,” Luna said cheerfully.

Harry thanked them again, and he and his friends headed to their first class. It seemed that Sirius’ assumption had been correct. Those who already supported him still seemed to. A few of the guys seemed a bit uncomfortable, but not enough to switch sides. There were of course those who did not support Harry, and they were not all Slytherins. Although most of them were, for some reason Harry got the feeling that some of them may have just been following the lead of the more important families.

Most of the teachers carried on as if nothing had happened, for which Harry was grateful. The one exception was of course, Umbridge. Harry was dreading the next time he had her class. As it was, she kept sending him dirty looks. He consider his conversation with Draco weeks prior and thought that perhaps he had just succeeded in making her hate him more. But that was a problem for another day, or so he thought.

After his last class, Harry and his friends were making their way to the Great Hall, complaining about the amount of homework they were getting.

“You would think that they would give us less homework so we could spend more time studying,” Harry said.

“Agreed,” Neville said.

“You guys,” Hermione protested. “When we complete the homework, we are studying.”

“Doesn’t sound right to me,” Harry insisted.

“I’m going to stand with Harry on this one,” Neville agreed.

“Hey Harry!” Harry turned to see Fred and George heading his way.

“Hey guys,” Harry said. “Everything alright?”

“Yeah,” replied George. “Angelina wanted us to remind you about practice tonight.”

“She thought all this commotion might have made you forget,” Fred added.

“Oh man,” Harry said. “Thanks for that. I did forget.” Harry shook his head. “I can’t believe I forgot about quidditch.”

“How do you live with yourself mate?” Fred asked, making the entire group laugh.

“Hey, if you’d had the day I’ve had you wouldn’t remember your own head!” Harry shot back.

“Alright, I’ll give you that one,” Fred conceded. “I guess we know what you and Ron were fighting about.”

“That was part of it,” Harry admitted. “There was a lot of build-up of other things too.”

“Well—” but whatever George was going to say was interrupted by another voice.

“Hey faggot!” yelled Blaise Zabini. “You and Longbottom look pretty cozy over there!”

Harry looked on in confusion, as he and Neville were literally just standing next to one another. Harry rolled his eyes and was about to retort when another voice spoke up.

“Yeah Blaise!” joined in Theodore Nott. “If anyone else is bent it’s Longbottom!”

“Stuff it Nott,” said George. “What’s got you so concerned huh?”

“Yeah Zabini,” Fred piped in. “You guys jealous or something?”

“Ooh, sounds like Potters got a whole list of lovers,” Nott retorted.

“Well what did you expect Nott,” Zabini said. “I bet the whole Weasley family is bent.”

“With so many blokes in one family what would you expect?” Nott added.

“That doesn’t even make sense,” Hermione protested. “They’re brothers!”

“I wouldn’t put anything past those weasels!” Zabini insisted.

“Yeah—” but Nott’s newest insult was never uttered. Fred had flung himself forward. All thought of magic has disappeared. Fists were flying, and Zabini was screaming. Harry, Neville, and Lee (who Harry had not even realized was there) had jumped into action to hold George back without thinking. But then, Harry saw Nott advance on George and immediately jumped into action. His scramble with Nott was fierce, but Harry had the upper hand. Time slowed down, and it felt like ages later when someone yanked him off of Nott. He looked up to see his head of house looking more furious than ever before.

“What do you think you’re doing!” she shouted. “I’ve never seen behavior like this in all my years! My Gryffindors go to my office immediately! Slytherin’s march straight to Professor Snape!” Her glare was enough to make Harry and George turn on their heels and march to her office. “In!” she shouted as they reached her door. She strode in and past them to stand in front of her desk and crossed her arms in front of her. “Well!? Explain yourself!”

“They provoked us,” Harry stated.

“Provoked you?”

“They were mocking Harry because he’s gay,” George explained. “And then they started making untoward insinuations about my entire family.”

“And instead of taking this to a professor you’ve decided muggle dueling was the correct course of action did you?” she bellowed. “Do you have any idea—”

_“Hem, Hem.” _They turned in surprise to see Umbridge standing in the doorway looking rather smug. “May I help, Professor McGonagall?”

“Help?” she repeated. “What do you mean, ‘help’?”

“I though you may require a little extra authority.”

“You thought wrong,” McGonagall replied. “Now you two listen up. I do not care what provocation other students offer you, I do not care if he insulted every family member you possess, your behavior is disgusting and I am giving you each a week’s worth of detention! Do not look at me like that, Potter, you—”

“Hem, hem.”

“Yes?” McGonagall said, barely holding back her anger.

“I think they deserve rather more than detentions,” Umbridge said, smiling broadly. McGonagall said nothing. As High Inquisitor, Umbridge had a right to enact punishments.

“What would you suggest?” McGonagall asked through gritted teeth.

“Well, I believe they need a punishment that will ensure they understand the severity of their actions don’t you?” Umbridge suggested. “You know, I was so hesitant to allow the Gryffindor quidditch team to reform due to some its questionable members. Can you imagine the kind of danger these students could do on a field, particularly as a beater?” She paused for a moment to let her words sink in. “Yes, I think a lifelong ban from quidditch ought to serve the trick. And the other twin should be banned too. He would have attacked as well had his friends not held him back. Best to take the temptation away.”

“But that’s not fair!” Harry exclaimed. “This had nothing to do with quidditch!”

“If one is to learn an important lesson, they should suffer the loss of something they love don’t you think?” Umbridge said in her sickly sweet voice. “Yes, a lifelong ban will serve just fine.”

***

In just a short span of time, Harry went from being jubilant at the support he was receiving to completely devastated. And it didn’t help that the rest of his house was also angry. While most recognized that Harry and the twins weren’t to blame, the fact still remained that they had practically lost all chances of winning the quidditch cup this year. It was almost comical. Everyone had barely blinked when Harry revealed he was gay, but getting banned from the quidditch team was a catastrophe of astronomical proportions.

“It’s just a sport!” Hermione protested. “She could have done a lot worse.” The rest of them shot her such angry glares Hermione never brought up quidditch again. “I know it’s hard Harry, but try to focus on the positive. You still have the D.A., and you have a date coming up!”

This wasn’t exactly comforting, but without any better options Harry decided the best he could do was focus other things. Much to Hermione’s pleasure he not only put a great deal more effort into his school work, but also his teacher responsibilities. Whereas before he used to half ass a few lesson ideas and wing the rest, now he really focused on what he wanted the rest to learn and how to get them there. It seemed to be working. So many of the members were showing improvement that Harry couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride. And it wasn’t just in meetings either.

“I told you that you could do it,” Harry said as he nudged Neville. They were exciting charms, where Professor Flitwick had just complimented Neville on his progress.

“I said I’d be ready to face Bellatrix, and I meant it,” Neville replied.

Harry couldn’t have been prouder of his best friend. He was improving in all classes, thanks to Harry’s tutoring, Hermione’s study plan, and of course, his own personal resolve. “Your parents would be proud of you,” Harry said. Neville didn’t respond, but Harry could tell he was pleased. They were even improving in potions! Not that Neville would ever be great at it, but as he pointed out to Harry a “poor” was still better than the “dreadfuls” he’d been getting.

The hardest moment for Harry was when Angelina informed him that he, Fred, and George had been replaced.

“Ginny!?” he exclaimed in shock.

“Yeah I was surprised too,” Angelina said. “But she’s good. Not as good as you, but well we can’t have you.”

Harry congratulated Ginny, but couldn’t help the resentment that it wasn’t him still on the team. He didn’t want to be angry with Ginny for something that wasn’t her fault, so instead he focused on the plus side: his date with Andrew.

He had continued speaking to Andrew in class, and was happy to see he had begun to attend the D.A. meetings. Harry may have given him more individual instruction than necessary. His initial gut feelings about Andrew were right. Not only was he very friendly, but he was also rather funny. Harry was feeling better and better about his date every day.

It was certainly satisfying to see Draco’s green dragon rear up anytime he saw them together. If he was being honest, he still had feelings for Draco. They hadn’t disappeared just because the blond was being stubborn. But all the obstacles in their way kept piling up in Harry’s mind. Those obstacles didn’t exist with Andrew, and Harry couldn’t deny that was appealing.

He didn’t want to play with the other boy’s feelings just to turn around and leave him for Draco, but would he ever know what his feelings were if he didn’t try?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter is their date! Who’s excited??


	23. The First Date

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's here!

The remaining few weeks before Valentine’s Day were touch and go for Harry. He couldn’t help the bitterness at being banned from quidditch, which he knew Umbridge had done solely because he was gay. The good news was that most of the taunting had stopped. Nott and Zabini had not walked away from their fight looking good.

Harry tried to focus on his studies and D.A. lessons, but he couldn’t help the butterflies in his stomach as his date approached. He and Andrew had been getting along great. Andrew was half-blood, so he understood the muggle world as well as the wizarding. It meant that there was a great deal of things he and Harry could talk about. But while Harry was growing fond of the brunette, he still couldn’t quite get a particular blond out of his head.

He and Draco had been avoiding one another since their last fight. Part of Harry wanted to talk to him—to make up and hear Draco out. But he had promised he wouldn’t just use Andrew, so he was determined to see things through. As it was, he was certain Andrew could be a good friend. He was hoping their date would determine if the Ravenclaw could be more. And he was really hoping that whatever conclusion he came to was the same one Andrew did. He really didn’t want to have to turn someone down like he had Cho.

“You ready mate?” Neville asked as they got dressed that morning.

“Yes?”

“That didn’t sound convincing,” Neville said with a chuckle.

“I am both excited and nervous,” Harry said. “And nauseous. Definitely nauseous.”

Neville laughed and patted him on the back. “If the past couple of weeks are anything to go by, Andrew is definitely interested. I wouldn’t worry about it.”

“Andrew’s interest is only half the battle,” Harry said.

“Still don’t want to say who it is you really like?” Neville asked.

“That’s the last thing I want to think about today,” Harry said as they made their way to the common room. Hermione was waiting for them at the bottom of the stairs.

“Oh good!” she exclaimed. “I was hoping you hadn’t already left!”

“Why?” Harry asked. “Everything alright?”

“Yes,” Hermione answered. “I know you have your date today, but would you mind meeting me at the Three Broomsticks around 1?”

“Uh, yeah sure,” Harry said. “Can I bring Andrew?”

“If you want,” Hermione said. “Good luck on your date!”

“Thanks,” Harry said. He looked at both of them. “See you guys later then.”

“Good luck Harry,” Neville said.

With that, Harry put on his brave face and made his way downstairs. He had told Andrew to meet him right inside the castle doors. As he got nearer, he took some deep breaths. You can do this, he thought to himself. You’ve been talking to him for weeks. This is no different. Harry wasn’t entirely sure he believed himself, but when he rounded the corner and saw Andrew waiting for him he couldn’t hold back a smile. The brunette really was very handsome, and it helped that he appeared as nervous as Harry felt.

He looked up as Harry approached and smiled. “Good morning Harry!” he said cheerfully.

“Good morning Andrew,” Harry responded, biting back his nerves. “Ready to go?”

“Ready if you are,” he responded.

Harry gestured towards the door. As Andrew starting walking, Harry placed his hand on the brunette’s back, something he had seen other boys in relationships do. Andrew didn’t move away, and Harry thought he saw the other boy smile.

“So…” Harry began, unsure where to start. The easy conversation they had been having suddenly seemed much harder. “Um…where should we go first?” Harry cursed himself for not asking Sirius for advice the night before.

“I’m not sure,” Andrew responded. “Somewhere with breakfast?”

“I could go for that,” Harry answered. “Any ideas?” Harry ran a hand through his hair. “I’m…uh…not exactly sure where one goes on a date.”

Andrew chuckled. “I’m no expert either,” he said. “I know other guys have taken girls to Madam Puddifoot’s tea shop, but I’m not certain that would be the best place for us.”

“I’ve never even heard of it,” Harry admitted.

“Count yourself lucky,” Andrew replied with a snort. “From what I’ve gathered, it is a very…frilly…pink place. I wouldn’t be surprised if it was completely decked out for Valentine’s. That’s the kind of thing they would do.”

“It also sounds like a place that would be rather crowded today,” Harry said. “Isn’t there another little tea shop down past the apothecary?”

“Yeah, I think there is,” Andrew replied. “Have you ever been to it?”

“No,” Harry said. “But we could give it a shot if you want?”

“Sure!” Andrew answered. “The worst that happens is that it’s bad tea right?”

“Let’s hope,” Harry said with a chuckle. “Bad luck tends to follow me.”

“Well, good luck tends to follow me,” Andrew said. “Maybe it will rub off.”

“One can hope,” Harry said. The two walked in comfortable silence for a few minutes. Harry thought that his date’s cheerfulness and positivity was uplifting and contagious. He also enjoyed that neither felt the need to interject each moment with conversation. They could simply enjoy each other’s company.

After a few minutes, they found the small tea shop. It looked pleasant enough. Harry, striving to be a gentleman, opened the door for his date and offered an “After you.”

“Thanks,” his date replied.

Inside, the shop was small, but cozy. It had a few Valentine’s decorations, but nothing overboard. It was nice and warm, and the chairs looked comfy. Harry and Andrew selected a small table near the fire, and an older gentleman came and took their tea order. They each ordered a small pastry as well.

“So far so good,” Andrew commented.

“It’s got the looks,” Harry agreed. “Let’s see how the fare equals up.”

The fare did indeed equal up. The tea was perfect and the pastries delightful. Harry and Andrew spent several minutes pleasantly complimenting the shop. One could only say so much on the subject however, and eventually Andrew changed the subject.

“So…not to bring down the mood, but I heard what happened with Umbridge and the quidditch team,” Andrew said hesitantly. “I’m so sorry Harry. That woman is so awful. She had no right.”

Harry sighed. “Yes she is, and no she didn’t. But I have to say I am a bit used to it by now.”

“No one should have to get used to such unfairness,” Andrew said. He placed his hand over Harry’s, and Harry thought it felt quite nice. He didn’t pull away.

“No,” Harry agreed. “But I am. Besides, I kind of asked for it. I knew there would be people who didn’t agree with my lifestyle, and yet I boldly professed it to the entire school anyway.” Suddenly, Harry was hit with a startling realization. “Merlin’s beard.” He looked at Andrew earnestly. “Andrew I’m so sorry. I just realized I outed you too!”

Andrew gave Harry a rueful smile and a small laugh. “Don’t sweat it,” he assured. “It wasn’t exactly a secret. I mean, I wasn’t going around bragging about it, but everyone who mattered to me already knew.” He squeezed Harry’s hand. “I don’t hold it against you. I’d rather be here on this date with you than have my sexuality be a secret.”

Harry exhaled in relief. “I’m glad to hear it,” he said. “But I’m still sorry.”

“That’s because you’re a good person,” Andrew said. “It’s one of the things I like about you.”

Harry blushed. He wasn’t sure how to respond, so he changed the subject. “So, do you follow quidditch closely?”

“I do!” Andrew answered. “I can’t play it to save my life, but I really enjoy watching!”

“Yeah?” Harry asked. “Have you ever tried playing?”

“Oh yes,” Andrew said. “With my magical cousins. I’m terrible.” He laughed. “I still play, but just with them. I wouldn’t dream of showing all of Hogwart’s quidditch enthusiasts how bad I am. But I will watch the talented students play!”

“It’s going to be strange,” Harry said. “Watching from the sidelines. I’ve been on the team since first year, so I’ve never had that experience.”

“I know this isn’t a comfort,” Andrew said. “But you are welcome to sit next to me. Perhaps I can help lift your mood?”

“I’m not sure how well it would work,” Harry said. “But I’ll happily give it a try, if simply for the joy of spending more time with you.” It was Andrew’s turn to blush.

“I’ll admit, I’d rather watch you play,” Andrew said. “You’re the best! Don’t get me wrong, I support Ravenclaw all the way, and Cho is amazing! But no one compares to you!”

“Wow!” Harry exclaimed. “Thanks Andrew! Hey, I’ve been banned from playing, but not flying. Maybe we can fly together sometime?”

“We can try,” Andrew said. “But I promise I’m no good. However, if you ever want someone to show off too I am more than happy to be your captive audience.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Absolutely,” Andrew affirmed. “It helps that I find quidditch players incredibly sexy,” he added with a smirk.

Harry blushed a dark crimson. He busied himself drinking his tea so he wouldn’t have to respond. Andrew looked rather smug at being able to get Harry to react in such a way. At the same time, Harry couldn’t help but think back to the time he and Draco had spoken after the last quidditch match. Draco had started to say something that began with “incredibly se—” before cutting himself off. Is this what he was going to say?

Harry shook his head to clear his thoughts, and looked up at his date, who had been watching him. “What do you say we check out some shops?” he asked.

“Works for me,” Andrew answered.

“Oh,” Harry exclaimed as he paid for their breakfast. “By the way, Hermione asked me to meet her at the three broomsticks at one. I’m not sure what it’s for, but you are welcome to come. We can eat lunch there if you want.”

“That sounds fine,” Andrew said. “I wouldn’t mind meeting some of your friends.” Harry shared a smile with his date, grateful for his optimistic attitude.

The two spent the next few hours perusing the shops. They had lots of fun testing out the products at Zonko’s. They also enjoyed their time at Honeydukes. He and Andrew had very similar tastes in sweets, and if Harry is being honest they likely purchased way too much. As 1 p.m. approached, Harry and his date made their way to the Three Broomsticks to meet Hermione. They walked in and saw her sitting in the back corner with two of the most unlikely people: Rita Skeeter and Luna Lovegood. Harry and Andrew exchanged confused looks before Harry shrugged and led the way to the table.

“Afternoon Hermione, Luna,” Harry said. He eye-balled the former Daily Prophet reporter. “Rita.” He turned back to his friends. “Guys this is Andrew. Andrew meet Hermione and Luna.”

“Hey guys,” Andrew said as he and Harry took their seats.

“Ooohh, this your boyfriend Harry?” Rita asked.

“That’s none of your business,” Hermione interjected. “And that’s not why you are here.”

“Why are we all here exactly?” Harry asked as Andrew flagged down a server to take their lunch orders.

“Well, I’ve been thinking,” Hermione answered after Harry and Andrew had finished ordering. “There are still a lot of people who don’t believe You-Know-Who is back. There are still a lot of people who don’t believe you.”

“I am aware,” Harry said. “So what are you suggesting?”

“And what does this have to do with me?” Rita asked. “He’s quite the looker Harry.”

“Again, not your business,” Hermione retorted. “And you are here to write Harry’s story.”

“The Daily Prophet won’t publish anything he says,” Rita protested.

“We’re not sending it to the Daily Prophet,” Hermione replied. She looked at Luna. “We’re sending it to the Quibbler.”

“That joke?” Rita exclaimed. “Even less people will believe him.”

“My father said he would be more than happy to publish your story Harry,” Luna said as if Rita had not spoken. “He doesn’t trust the Daily Prophet anyway.”

“So,” Hermione explained. “Harry you can tell your story to Rita. Rita can write it down, and Luna will get it published in the Quibbler. And,” she said interrupting Rita who was about to protest, “when Harry is proven right, you get to be the one who takes the credit for breaking the story first.”

Rita contemplated this for a moment and then nodded. “Well, seeing as you won’t let me write anything else, I suppose I have nothing to lose.” She pulled out her notepad and quick quotes quill. “Ready Harry dear?”

Harry looked at Hermione. “In all of this thinking and planning, did you ever stop and think that maybe you should ask me if all of this is okay _before_ you ambushed me? And on a date no less?”

Hermione looked taken aback. “Well…I just thought you would want to get people to believe you.”

“Of course I do,” Harry said. “But you’re asking me to relive something that was extremely traumatic for me without any preparation whatsoever. Don’t you think I would have liked an advance warning?”

“I’m sorry Harry,” Hermione said. “I was so busy trying to get everything in place, I just assumed you would be okay with it.”

“Seems you and Ron have more in common than I thought,” Harry muttered under his breath.

“What was that?” Hermione asked.

“Nothing,” Harry responded. He turned to Andrew, who had been quietly eating his lunch. “I’m sorry about all of this.”

Andrew, having heard what Harry muttered, looked at Harry in sympathy. “You have nothing to apologize for.” He shot a glance at Hermione before looking back at Harry. “Do you want me to leave?”

“Only if you want to,” Harry said. “My story isn’t pleasant, but it’s about to be common knowledge anyway. If you want to stay, we can hang out some more after if you want?”

“I’ll stay then,” Andrew said with a smile.

Underneath the table, Harry felt Andrew’s hand grab his own and give it a tight squeeze. Harry felt warmed that Andrew would want to offer him comfort. With that extra boost, he took a deep breath, and began his story.

***

As much trepidation that Harry had felt when Hermione revealed her plan to him, he felt a great weight lifted after finally telling the entire story of that night in the cemetery. He was still peeved at Hermione for springing this on him, and planned to call her out about it. He had learned from Ron that keeping silent wouldn’t end well.

Luna had said she thought her father would publish the story in about two months time. The next one had a very important piece about “crumple-horned snorkacks” that couldn’t possibly be pushed back. On an even better note, Harry and Andrew spent the rest of the afternoon enjoying each other’s company as they perused the various shops. Harry found that he and the brunette had quite a lot in common. He enjoyed the brunette’s company, and he also enjoyed how the other boy made him feel. By the end of the day, he was rather excited to see where this relationship would go.

When classes resumed on Monday, things between them went on exactly as before, if a bit more enthusiastically. And just as Andrew had promised, he and Harry sat side-by-side during the Hufflepuff vs. Gryffindor match. It was an utter disaster without Harry and the twins. Ginny was indeed very good, but Ron was even more dreadful than before. Despite their argument, Harry still felt bad for him. He felt even worse sitting on the sidelines not being able to help the team.

Andrew did his best to cheer him up. And while nothing could completely distract him from his disappointment, being able to hold Andrew’s hand, listen to his witty and on point commentary, and even share a few good laughs did bolster his spirits a bit. Harry found that he was growing ever fonder of Andrew by the day.

Finally, the day of the publication arrived. Luna stopped by the Gryffindor table to deliver his copy and although he was ultimately pleased with how it turned out, he finally remembered he had a bone to pick with Hermione.

“I really hope this works,” Harry remarked as he scanned through the article. “But you still shouldn’t have ambushed me like that.”

“I’m sorry Harry,” Hermione said. “I genuinely didn’t think it would be an issue.”

“Yeah well given how upset I’ve been about all the times you, Ron, and basically every adult in my life have kept things from me and manipulated me these past few months, I would think it would have been the first thing that crossed your mind.”

Hermione wouldn’t meet his eyes. “I am really sorry Harry,” she said quietly. “I was just so focused on the idea that this would help.”

Harry sighed. “Yeah well next time you have a plan that involves me, do me a favor and tell me first yeah?”

“Absolutely!” Hermione exclaimed.

The conversation ended, as those around Harry became aware of the Quibbler article. Harry did not realize how loud they were being until none other than Umbridge appeared behind them. Harry’s anger at Hermione evaporated as soon as he saw Umbridge’s fury to the article. Harry thought it was well worth being banned from Hogsmeade and another week’s detention.

It also helped when Andrew sought him out at lunchtime to compliment him.

“Hearing the story from you was impactful,” Andrew said. “It takes a lot of courage to talk about something like that, and then to be willing to share it with the world. You should be proud of yourself Harry.”

“Thanks Andrew,” Harry said. He felt himself fill with warmth at Andrew’s praise. “I’m just glad it didn’t scare you off!”

Andrew laughed. “Your exploits aren’t exactly a secret Mr. Boy Who Lived,” he said. “If all of that didn’t scare me off I’m not sure anything will.”

Harry laughed as well. “Good,” he replied. “That takes a weight off!” He made room at the table. “Join me for lunch?”

“I thought you would never ask,” Andrew said with a smile and sat down next to him. Harry was pleased. Andrew got along well with his friends. They had a very, very pleasant lunch that involved good conversation, laughter, and a good deal of touching on Harry and Andrew’s parts. The first time Harry and Andrew’s thighs had brushed against one another, Harry had blushed and moved his leg away. But then he noticed Andrew sliding just the tiniest bit closer. He reacted in kind. As lunch went on, their hands touched, their thighs, their shoulders. It was all perfectly innocent, but heat swelled in Harry’s chest nonetheless.

It was with much regret that Harry said his goodbyes when lunch ended and the two boys had to head towards separate classes. Harry walked away with a bounce in his step, until his good mood was interrupted when a familiar blond practically knocked him over walking past him. As it was, Draco had succeeded in knocking the book Harry was carrying out of his hand.

“Watch it Potter,” Draco spat out as he walked past.

“Bugger off Malfoy,” Harry spat back. But when he went to pick up his book, he noticed a folded piece of paper underneath it. He quickly slid it into his book before anyone noticed. He joined his friends in complaining about Draco, but once they were seated he surreptitiously pulled out the message to read it.

_ Can we talk? I know our last one didn’t go so well, but I really need to speak with you. We have a lot to discuss. Usual place. Usual time._

Harry folded up the paper and pretended to listen to the current lecture. Meanwhile, he head was spinning. Did he want to talk to Draco after the last time? What if the blond apologized and they made up? It was what he had originally wanted, but now with things going so good with Andrew, did he still want that?

Harry couldn’t deny he still had feelings for Draco. By the end of the lesson, he had decided he would go to the meeting. He would never be able to live with himself if he didn’t go. He would always wonder what Draco wanted. It was best to know what the blond was thinking. Harry thought this was all very confusing.

The saying was keep your friends close and your enemies closer, but Harry wasn’t even sure which one Draco was anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know there are some people who may not be exactly pleased with the way the story is panning out. I’ll admit, when I first began writing, I had a very clear plan for the first few chapters, but everything after that was hazy. However, since then I have figured out where I intend to take this story. I have a set plan and I’m sticking to it! I hope you guys stick with me as well and that you enjoy what happens!


	24. Confrontations

Harry’s head was swimming as he waited for Draco to appear. He had arrived to their meeting place early, in the hopes he could collect his thoughts and be cool and calm when Draco arrived, but all it did was give him more time to think.

On the one hand, he really, really wanted Draco to apologize, so they could make up. On the other, making up with Draco could just complicated things. Harry was positive that Draco had gotten so upset about Andrew because he had feelings for Harry. There was no other explanation for his behavior that Harry could think of. Part of him desperately wanted to hear Draco admit that out loud, but after all this time he had grown so fond of Andrew.

The brunette was kind, handsome, funny, smart, witty, and caring. He and Harry got along so well. He even got along with Harry’s friends. There were no complications or secret meetings because they weren’t necessary. Their date had been wonderful. Harry was certain if he pursued this it would lead somewhere. But where did that leave he and Draco?

Harry jerked his head up as he was pulled out of his thoughts by approaching footsteps. Moments later, Draco walked into the room. They both looked at each other in silence.

Harry broke it. “You called me here, and I came,” he said. “What did you want?”

Draco took a deep breath. “Well…uh…I…you know,” Draco muttered. Harry raised an eyebrow. Draco looked uncomfortably off to the side. Then, he mumbled something too low for Harry to hear.

“What was that?” Harry asked.

“I said…I’msorryforgettingangrylasttime,” Draco gushed out all in one breath.

Harry rolled his eyes. “Is this the first time you’ve ever been forced to apologize?” he asked with a huff. “Why don’t we try that again a little slower?”

Draco shot Harry a half-hearted glare. “I said…I’m sorry for getting mad at you last time,” Draco answered.

“Better,” Harry said. “Care to explain why you were so mad?”

Draco looked anywhere but Harry. “Not really.”

Harry’s eyes got wide. Did he really just say that? Two could play that game. “Then I guess we’re done here.”

It was Draco’s turned to get wide-eyed. “What!?” he exclaimed. He moved to block Harry. “No wait. Don’t go.”

“If you aren’t going to give me a legitimate apology and explanation then there is nothing to talk about!” Harry said. “I didn’t start this—you did. You can’t just get mad at me when I talk to people.”

“That’s not it at all,” Draco said. “You can talk to whoever you want.”

“Then why did you get mad?” Harry asked. Draco was silent. Harry rolled his eyes. “Look, I don’t like fighting with you, but I’m not going to stand here while you waste my time. You can’t just get mad at me for no reason and expect me to stick around!”

“No reason huh?” Draco exclaimed angrily. “How’s this for a reason? You’ve gone a named my father a Death Eater to the entire world! The entire school is talking about your stupid article! Did you even stop to think about what that would do to me?”

“No,” Harry said calmly. “I was telling the truth Draco. If you think this entire school didn’t already know who your family was aligned with you’re crazy. It wasn’t a secret. You can’t get mad at me for that.”

“Yes I can!” Draco protested. “This isn’t the kind of thing you talk about out loud. And it’s still my family you’ve slandered!”

“Slander only applies if the information is false,” Harry responded. “The things the paper says about me are slander. The things I said about Voldemort and his followers are true.” Draco went to speak, but Harry kept going. “And not talking about this is exactly the problem. The public needs to acknowledge what’s going on or it will only get worse! You said you don’t agree with Voldemort so what’s the problem!?”

“It’s still my family!” Draco answered. “We’ve talked about this. There’s more to them than what you’ve seen!”

“Well what I saw was your father standing and watching as Voldemort tried to murder me, so excuse me for harboring a dislike for the guy!” Harry yelled.

“Yeah well….” Draco trailed off. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “I suppose that’s a pretty good reason for not liking someone.”

“You think?”

Draco sighed again. “Okay, okay, I’m sorry,” Draco said. “But can you blame me for getting upset about that? You still said a bunch of negative things about the Malfoy’s.”

“And it is unfortunate that you are one of them, but that doesn’t make what I said less true,” Harry said.

“Fine,” Draco admitted. “Maybe you have a point, but I can still be mad about someone insulting my family. True or not.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Fine, you can be mad about that,” he conceded. “But you don’t have any right to be mad about me and Andrew, especially since you refuse to explain why.”

“You definitely threw yourself at him,” Draco protested.

“Maybe,” Harry said. “But I have that right. I can date whoever I want. Still doesn’t explain why you’re so mad about it. Unless of course, my blatant displays of gayness have offended your precious pureblood sensibilities.”

“What!?” Draco exclaimed. “I don’t care if you’re gay.” Harry raised an eyebrow. “Yeah okay most purebloods are not okay with that sort of thing because continuing the family line is really important. But it doesn’t matter what people who aren’t purebloods do.”

“Really?” Harry asked. “Because it was your own housemates that were mocking me and got me banned from quidditch.”

Draco looked down guiltily. “Okay well just because they care doesn’t mean I do,” he responded quietly.

“I’m not convinced,” Harry said.

“Well…maybe…,” Draco mumbled. “What if I said…I was gay?” Harry’s eyes widened. He hadn’t believed Draco would admit it. The blond blushed as he looked anywhere but at Harry. “Would you believe me then?”

“Maybe,” Harry said. “But if you’re gay, and me being gay doesn’t bother you, it still doesn’t explain why you were mad about Andrew.”

“Doesn’t it?” Draco asked.

“Nope,” Harry said. He could tell Draco was getting frustrated, but he had no plans to let the other boy off the hook. If he wanted something, he was going to have to say it. “But you are welcome to clarify for me.”

“Are you always this difficult?” Draco asked.

“Are you?” Harry countered. Draco turned away and refused to look at Harry. “Look, one thing I know is that if I want something, I’m going to go for it. And the way I see it, if you’re not willing to go for it, you must not want it bad enough. Andrew is willing to go for it.” Draco finally looked up at Harry in surprise. “And so am I. And I don’t plan on turning my back on him because _someone_—“ he gave Draco a pointed look—“can’t admit what they want.”

Harry turned and walked towards the door, but before exiting, he stopped and looked back at Draco.

“You had a chance,” he said quietly. “Weeks ago. I’m not turning my back on a good guy just because you didn’t take it.”

Harry didn’t stop to see Draco’s reaction. He just turned and walked away. He avoided contact with everyone as he made his way to his dorm room. His head was spinning. Finally, he had gotten confirmation about his suspicions. And yet, Draco still refused to admit out loud what he felt.

Harry knew that he had done the right thing. There was no point fighting for someone who wouldn’t return the favor. And it was certainly wrong to lead somebody on and then drop them when your first choice came crawling back. But it didn’t feel right. He wasn’t sure what to do, but he did know who he wanted to speak to.

Harry pulled the curtains around his bed closed and pulled out his two-way mirror. “Sirius,” he asked, almost a whisper. All of a sudden, he was becoming overcome with emotion. “Sirius are you there?”

“Ye—“ Sirius began, but was cut off. Harry saw various images in the mirror, and realized his godfather must have dropped it. “Ye—shit, hold on.” Harry heard a variety of noises on the other side, and what sounded like another voice. He had just come to the conclusion that he must have interrupted Sirius and Remus when both of their faces appeared in the mirror. “Uh, hey Harry. How…uh…how’s everything.”

Harry smiled in amusement at his family, though his eyes were watery with held back tears.

“Sorry to interrupt,” he said quietly. Both of their faces grew concerned at his solemn expression.

“You okay kid?” Sirius asked.

“Not really,” he replied. He took a deep breath, while his family wait patiently for him to continue. “I talked to Draco today.”

“First time since you two fought?” Remus asked.

“Yeah.”

“I don’t guess he was too pleased with your Quibbler interview?” Sirius asked. “Brilliant by the way.”

“Thanks,” Harry said. “And no he wasn’t. He was also angry about my date with Andrew.”

“Did he admit why this time?” Sirius asked.

Harry sighed, and before he could stop them, he felt tears sliding down his face. He wasn’t sure if it was from sadness, frustration, or a bit of both.

“Well that’s the annoying part,” Harry whined. “I got him to admit I have a right to be angry with his family. And I got him to admit that he is also gay, but he still refuses to say out loud why me being with Andrew is a problem for him.”

“I’m sorry Harry,” Remus said. “Believe me, both Sirius and I understand that dilemma.”

“And I mean, I’ve grown fond on Andrew,” Harry said. “I’m not just going to walk away because Draco finally grew a pair, but it still hurts that he won’t just tell me how he feels.”

“We know,” Sirius said.

“And we wish we could tell you it gets better,” Remus said. “It will likely always bother you that he wouldn’t admit it.”

“And you will always wonder what could have been,” Sirius said. “But if your feelings for him fade, eventually it will hurt less.”

“And if my feelings don’t fade?” Harry asked.

“If that is the case, then you can just hope that he does find the courage to admit it someday,” Remus said sympathetically.

“But things seem to be going good with Andrew,” Sirius added.

“They are yes,” Harry admitted. “I like him a lot.”

“Just not as much as Draco?” Remus asked. Harry nodded and wiped away a few more tears that had managed to escape. “You can’t force yourself to love someone you don’t. You can only hope it gets better, and do what feels right to you.” Sirius nodded next to him.

“Thanks guys,” Harry said.

“We’re sorry we can’t be more help,” Sirius said.

“It helps just being able to talk about it,” Harry assured. He sighed. “Today exhausted me. I think I’m going to call it a night.”

“Night kid,” Sirius said.

“We’re always here when you need us,” Remus added. “We love you.”

“Love you too.”

***

_Harry found himself standing in a dark room. The hands clenched in front of him were not his._

_ “I have been badly advised, it seems,” said Harry, in a voice Harry recognized as someone else’s—someone he’d rather not be. Harry observed through eyes that were not his as Voldemort spoke with Rookwood, praised him for his useful information. When the voice that was not his sent Rookwood to find Avery, Harry knew he had overstayed his welcome. And when those eyes turned, and caught the face whiter than a skull with red eyes reflected in the wall, he couldn’t take any more…_

Harry jolted out of bed with a start. He gasped as he tried to regain his breath. He was shaking, and he was a bit afraid if he was being honest. He had never been so conscious of his own self in one of his visions. He realized he had not taken time to clear his mind before going to bed. Suddenly, he remembered his revelation over Christmas.

“The weapon is in the Department of Mysteries,” Harry muttered. With everything that had been happening, he had completely forgotten his discovery of the mysterious door. And whatever was beyond it, it certainly sounded like Voldemort knew how to reach it after Rookwood’s advice. Harry wasn’t sure what this meant, but he knew he had to tell Snape.

It took him several days to pass on a message to his potion’s master, who was apparently just as busy as he had promised he’d be over Christmas. So it was several days later before he was trudging down to Snape’s office for another occlumency lesson.

“I suppose you have had another vision?” Snape asked after Harry had entered.

“Yes,” Harry said. “A few nights ago I forgot to clear my mind and I saw Voldemort—well, I was Voldemort. But he was speaking to a man named Rookwood. Apparently another man named Avery gave him some bad advice and Rookwood just gave him the correct advice.” Harry looked up at his professor. “Sir, whatever is in the Department of Mysteries, Voldemort is one step closer to getting it.”

Snape narrowed his eyes. “How do you know about the Department of Mysteries? “

“I had a revelation when we last met over Christmas,” Harry admitted. “But with everything going on, I haven’t had time to think about it until a few days ago.”

“Good,” Snape responded. “You shouldn’t be thinking of it at all. You shouldn’t even know about it.”

“Well I do,” Harry protested. “What’s in it?”

“That’s none of your concern Potter,” Snape replied coolly.

“Really?” Harry asked. “Because considering I’m the person he is trying to kill most, I would think if it’s anyone’s concern it is mine!”

Snape sighed. “That is not my decision to make,” he responded quietly. “And nothing you say will change my mind,” he added as Harry tried to protest again. “Is there anything else I need to know?”

“I was more conscious this time if that makes sense,” Harry said, knowing his professor was too stubborn to budge. “I knew immediately that I was seeing through Voldemort’s eyes. Normally it takes me a while to catch on.”

“Hmm,” Snape said. “This could be both good and bad. Bad, if the Dark Lord is also becoming more aware. Good because if you have more control you may be better able to shut it out.” He stood and got into position. “Ready yourself.” Harry also stood and prepared for an attack. “Legilimens!”

They went at this for several minutes. Harry had thought he was making progress, but tonight Snape’s attacks were relentless. All of a sudden, Harry realized he could see Snape almost through his memories. He focused harder on Snape and his professor grew clearer. Suddenly, almost without meaning too, Harry raised his own wand and shouted, “Protego!”

He saw Snape stagger back losing his wand. He saw memories in his mind that were not his own. A tall dark-haired man screaming at a women cowering, while a small dark-haired boy cried…students laughing at a scrawny boy in the hallways…

“ENOUGH!” Snape yelled. Harry staggered backwards. He gasped for breath and refused to meet his Professor’s eyes. Had you asked him last year, he would have told you he would kill for ammunition against Snape. Now, he just felt bad.

“I’m…I’m sorry sir” he stuttered. “I didn’t mean for that to happen.”

“Perhaps,” Snape said coldly. When Harry looked up, Snape was angrily staring at the wall. “Still, it was effective. However, such a tactic would only work in a situation such as this one—where the attacker stands before you. The Dark Lord will likely attack from far away.”

“Yes sir,” Harry replied. “I’m sor—”

“Enough,” Snape said. “You were instructed to protect yourself. You did. Now get ready to try again.”

With great apprehension, Harry readied himself again. Despite the progress he and Snape had made recently, he was sure he was about to pay for what he had just seen. However, he never got the chance to find out—they were interrupted by a woman’s scream. They exchanged confused glances, and headed upstairs.

Harry watched from the sidelines as Umbridge publicly sacked Trelawney. He had never like his divination professor, but no one deserved this. He watched as Dumbledore asserted his authority in keeping Trelawney at Hogwarts and appointing Firenze as the new teacher. He felt a small sense of satisfaction watching Umbridge’s reaction, but it didn’t quite mask the resentment he still felt towards Dumbledore.

In the long run, the new staff appointment did nothing to make divination easier to understand. And as the year moved forward, the stress over O.W.L.s grew heavier. Between classes, homework, and the D.A., Harry barely had time to think, much less date.

He continued to pursue Andrew, but they had not truly spent time together since Hogsmeade. Quick chats between and before classes. Small flirtations during D.A. meetings. The occasional lunch with either of their friends.

More than once, Harry had caught Draco staring at the two of them, after which the blond would blush fiercely and turn away. Harry could not shake the feelings he still had for Draco, nor the regret that the blond would not admit his feelings, but he also knew there was nothing he could do about it except try to move on.

Finally, Harry decided that schoolwork be damned, he was going to go on another date with Andrew. Hermione suggest a study date, and Harry acquiesced as it at least sounded productive. It was easier to budget time for a date when one could pretend it served a larger purpose. So, one bright Saturday morning, Harry and Andrew made their way to a nice shady area by the lake. They were loaded down with both books and snacks. The idea was they could have a nice picnic while they studied—or pretended too.

Surprisingly, they made it work. Andrew suggested a sort of reward system. They would study/work on an assignment for ten minutes, and then they were allowed to relax for the next ten. This worked for about an hour. The two boys would quietly work, doing no more than stealing quick glances at one another. Then, they would reward themselves by flirting and enjoying their picnic. They had started a foot or two away from one another, with books and parchment sprawled out between, but as the time went on, they ended up closer and closer.

They were nearly shoulder to shoulder, but Harry had not noticed. He had become absorbed in his essay. Not that it was particularly interesting, but he had suddenly come across the information he needed in a book, and was on such a role he was almost finished. He was so in his own head, he had not noticed that Andrew had stopped working and was staring at him.

“Yes!” he exclaimed as he finished. “One more down!” He turned to notice Andrew’s small smile. “What?”

“The ten minutes of work ended about five minutes ago,” Andrew answered with a laugh. “But you were so focused that I didn’t want to interrupt your rhythm.”

Harry looked at the watch on Andrew’s wrist and noticed that the brunette was right. He had gone over the allotted study time.

“Well I guess that means I deserve a better reward,” Harry said with a smile. Andrew returned the smile and leaned in closer. Harry had planned to say something else, but he suddenly forgot what it was. He realized how close he was to the other boy.

He briefly remembered when Cho had attempted to kiss him, and how wrong it had all felt. But here, in this moment, it felt right. He looked into the other boy’s eyes, and when he didn’t see any hesitation reflected back to him, he closed his eyes, and leaned in.

Having never been kissed before, Harry didn’t have any experience or knowledge to compare or judge his first one with. But it felt pretty darn good if he said so himself. Andrew’s lips were soft, and Harry felt the butterflies in his stomach flutter.

He pulled away and looked at the brunette. Andrew smiled at him shyly through his blush, and Harry did the same. Neither of them knew where to go from there. The rest of the date consisted of small, shy smiles, quick touches and quiet, simple conversation. It didn’t feel awkward, but Harry wondered what one was supposed to do after a kiss.

Eventually, they packed up and headed back to the castle. Harry took some of his Gryffindor courage and grabbed the other boy’s hand. When he felt Andrew give his own a squeeze, and saw the boy’s smile, he knew he had made the right choice. Right before they were about to part ways in the castle, Harry noticed that the hallway was empty from any prying eyes. Taking another dose of courage, he gave the brunette another small peck on the lips.

“See you later Andrew,” he said with a blush.

“Later Harry,” Andrew returned.

With that, Harry turned and walked away. Once he was out of sight of the brunette, he stopped to lean against a wall and collect his thoughts. He brought his hand up to touch his lips. He had done it! He had had his first kiss!

He felt elated. His first kiss had gone off smoothly, without a hitch. And yet, standing there in the hallway, he couldn’t help but wonder what Draco’s lips would feel like.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't fret friends! Handrew (what an awful ship name) is nearing competition! I see Drarry in the future!
> 
> That being said, things are crazy right now. I just finished writing this chapter today because last weekend I had things to grade, and today I have things to grade, and next weekend I have more things. So if the next few chapters end up being a bit late, that is why!


	25. That Time of Year

“But if the date went well I don’t understand what the problem is,” Neville said for about the third time.

Harry, Neville, and Hermione were studying in the library. Harry had just told them about his afternoon with Andrew the previous day. He had described how pleasant it had been, but ended his tale by saying he wasn’t sure if he was going to continue seeing the brunette. Given that he had nothing but nice things to say, he could understand Neville’s confusion.

“I just…don’t know if it will work out,” Harry muttered. After returning to his dorm room the previous evening. He had berated himself for thinking of Draco after his kiss. Things were going so well with Andrew, but he could not stop wondering how things would go with a certain blond.

Hermione, ever observant, was not as confused as Neville. “Well, I would guess this has something to do with that other boy you said you liked.” She gave Harry a pointed look.

Harry refused to meet her eyes. He busied himself with the assignment he was working on, but Hermione wasn’t buying it.

“Harry,” she said with a warning. “If you aren’t going to be honest with us, you at least need to be honest with yourself. And Andrew.”

Harry sighed. “I know.”

“Is that guy really this important to you?” Neville asked. “I’ve never seen you pay attention to anyone the way you do Andrew.”

“No you wouldn’t,” Harry admitted. “It’s sort of an all-around secret.”

“So you still don’t want to tell us?” Hermione asked. “I mean, it’s your decision, but we may be able to help you better if we know.”

“I’m not certain that will help anything,” Harry replied. “It’s not that I don’t want you guys to know. It’s that you won’t like who it is.”

“But do you like them?” Neville asked. “Because if you really like them, then that is what matters.”

“It’s complicated,” Harry whinnied.

“Well, does the person like you back?” Hermione asked.

“It’s really complicated,” Harry replied. Hermione sighed in frustration. “Okay, okay. Look, if I tell you guys, do you promise not to get mad at me?” They both nodded eagerly. “I’m serious. You can’t get mad, and you have to hear me out before you judge.”

“Agreed,” they both replied.

Harry took a deep breath. He took a moment to look around and make sure none was around. He stared at his book as he answered as quietly as possible. “Draco Malfoy.”

“WHAT!?” Neville exclaimed. Heads turned and the conversation paused while Neville received a scolding from Madam Pince.

“You promised Neville,” Harry said quietly.

“I promised I wouldn’t get angry,” he protested. “I didn’t say anything about not being surprised.”

“Fair enough,” Harry said with a small laugh. He ran his hand through his hair.

“Though, if you want to keep us from getting angry, I think we will need more explanation,” Hermione added.

“Right,” Harry said. He took a deep breath. “Well, for starters, I definitely didn’t ask for this to happen, or seek it out. It just sort of…evolved.”

“But how?” Neville asked. “I mean, I’m trying not to judge…but Malfoy?”

“I was really struggling at the beginning of the year. Like thoughts of suicide struggling, he explained. Hermione and Neville immediately looked like they wanted to interrupt, but he cut them off. “Don’t feel bad. I hid it well. But it just so happened that a lot of the time when I sought to be alone, either I would run into him or he would run into me. And surprisingly, he was a decent human being. We talked, and he was actually able to help me a bit. Eventually, we sort of agreed to try and be friends, and we would meet up more regularly.”

“I was wondering where you were always disappearing too,” Hermione huffed.

“Yeah,” Harry said. “Well, that’s where.”

“So you guys are just friends?” Neville asked. “But you like him?”

“That’s the complicated part,” Harry answered. “When I told Cho I was gay, she pointed me towards Andrew. Well, I met him on the train back from the holidays. Draco saw us, and he got jealous. We met up and we fought, but he wouldn’t admit why he was mad. So, we stopped talking.”

“And that is when you asked out Andrew as retaliation?” Hermione asked. Harry nodded. “So where does that leave you now?”

“Well, we talked again after the article came out,” Harry explained. “He was understandably upset with me, but we resolved it. But he was still made about Andrew. I got him to admit he was also gay, but he still won’t admit he has feelings for me and is jealous.”

“But I mean, it’s kind of obvious right?” Hermione asked.

“Well, yes,” Harry said. “But I want him to admit it.”

“So you are just going to date Andrew until he does?” Hermione asked disapprovingly.

“Well that wasn’t my intention,” Harry said. “I really do like him.”

“But?”

“But yesterday I couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to be with Draco while I was with Andrew,” Harry explained. “Which is a problem. Now that I know he likes me, I can’t help but think about what it could be.”

“Then I suggest you break up with Andrew,” Hermione said matter-of-fact.

“But…” Harry tried to protest.

“No buts,” Hermione insisted. “It doesn’t matter if nothing ever happens with Malfoy. If you can’t stop thinking about him then you shouldn’t be leading someone else on.” Harry sighed, but didn’t say anything. “Right?”

“Yeah,” Harry muttered quietly. Hermione glared.

“That doesn’t sound convincing,” she said.

“I’ll work it out,” Harry promised. Harry didn’t clarify what he meant by that, and he knew Hermione wasn’t satisfied. He figured he had time to work it out. He thought perhaps if he just focused on his studies, he could appear too busy to date. It worked for a couple weeks. He was polite to Andrew, but he also didn’t go out of his way to spend time with him.

Hermione pointed out that this was not what she meant by breaking up with him, and that this certainly didn’t fall under “working it out.” Harry assured her he was getting to it, but internally he planned to put it off as long as possible. Life had other plans.

“Um, Harry?” Harry heard Andrew’s tentative voice from behind him. He had holed himself away in the library. He looked up as hesitantly as Andrew’s voice sounded.

“Hey Andrew,” he said.

“Can we talk?” Andrew asked, biting his lip.

Harry groaned internally. There was no way he could avoid ending the relationship now. “Sure,” is what he said out loud. Andrew gestured towards the exit, and Harry got up and followed the brunette into an empty classroom.

“What’s up?” Harry asked, knowing very well what the issue was.

“Did I do something wrong?” Andrew asked immediately. When Harry didn’t respond right away, he kept going nervously. “It’s just that, I thought our date went really well. And I thought the kiss went really well. And I thought we left on great terms, but you haven’t talked to me since, and I am just wondering if I did something wrong.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong Andrew,” Harry assured.

“Then what happened?” Andrew asked, not assured in the slightest.

Harry sighed. “I’m…a horrible person?”

“I don’t believe that for a second,” Andrew said.

Harry plopped down in a seat and refused to meet Andrew’s eyes. “I really really like you,” he said.

“But?” Andrew asked.

“But…,” Harry hesitated. He ran a hand through his hair nervously. “So…the thing is…I may…or may not…like someone else.” When he finally looked up at Andrew, he saw the boy looked crestfallen.

“Then why were you going out with me?” Andrew asked.

“Because I like you,” Harry said. “I do Andrew. I really do.”

“But you like this other person more?” Andrew asked.

Harry sighed again. “I didn’t think I did,” Harry tried to explain. “I thought I could forget about it. The more time I spend with you the more I like you.”

“But?”

“But…I can’t stop thinking about this other person,” Harry said. “Even when I’m with you, and even when I’m enjoying myself, I can’t help but think about this other person.” He ran his hand through his hair again. “And…well, that’s not exactly fair to you.” He looked up to see Andrew staring at him intently. “It wouldn’t be fair to let us become more serious when I can’t stop thinking about someone else.”

“No,” Andrew agreed. “It wouldn’t be.”

“You have every right to be angry with me,” Harry said. “But I wasn’t trying to hurt you. I really thought I would forget about him.”

Andrew stared at the wall. A few tears slipped down, but he quickly wiped them away. “So it’s over then?”

Harry got up and walked over to Andrew. He made the brunette look at him. “I think that is what would be best for you in the long run,” he said. “I like you, and the more I get to know you the more I like. You’re smart, handsome, funny, and kind. I feel that if we continue seeing each other there is a good chance I could completely fall for you. But I also know that I won’t stop thinking about this other guy until I know for certain what could happen, and that isn’t fair to you.”

“Well just make this harder why don’t you,” Andrew huffed with a sad laugh.

“I can leave the choice up to you,” Harry offered. “If you want to give it another go, we can. But I need you to understand that I do have feelings for someone else.”

Andrew was silent for a while. “I wouldn’t be okay with dating someone who had feelings for another person.” He looked up at Harry. “I don’t think this would work.”

Harry nodded. “Then, I think we should call it off,” he said. “But I want you to know I’m hurt too. And I can’t express in words how mad I am at myself for doing this to you.”

Andrew nodded, but all he said was, “I’m going to go now.” He turned and left without another word. Harry didn’t think he’d felt so bad in his entire life, and he had made plenty of mistakes to feel bad about.

For everyone’s sake, he hoped he could work things out with Draco, one way or another.

***

Unfortunately, working things out was going to be difficult. The two avoided one another for weeks, both refusing to give in. As the weeks went on, it was if the fates were aligning against them.

If Harry had been paying attention, he would have noticed that this was right around the time of year when shit normally hit the fan.

All good things must come to an end, and Harry figured that out when Dobby appeared in the middle of a D.A. meeting. Harry barely had time to think before the entire D.A. was scrambling in all different directions. He didn’t even know where Hermione and Neville had gone as he blindly took off running.

Just when he started to think they might escape, he tripped over something and went sprawling on the ground. He scrambled around to see what he had tripped on only to find Draco Malfoy staring down at him.

“What the hell!?” Harry asked.

“Don’t know why you’re surprised,” Draco said somberly. “You always expect the worst of me don’t you?”

“What do you—”

Harry was interrupted by the person he wanted to see the least. He had to watch as Umbridge’s sickening visage appeared over Draco’s shoulder. He had to listen to her sickly sweet voice congratulate the Slytherin on capturing the main suspect before instructing him to go look for others. Draco shot Harry a victorious smirk at Harry for Umbridge’s sake, but Harry could see in his eyes that he didn’t feel it.

Harry’s head was spinning, but he didn’t have time to worry about the blond, when Umbridge was dragging him in the other direction. It took him a moment to realize that he was being towed to the headmaster’s office. When she shoved him through the doorway, he stumbled into an already full room. Dumbledore stood calmly behind his desk. In front stood a rather angry looking Minister for Magic. Harry briefly had time to notice there was an auror he wasn’t familiar with also there, as well as Kingsley, McGonagall, and none other than Percy Weasley.

Fudge and Umbridge gleefully presented their evidence of Dumbledore’s Army. Harry discovered it was Cho’s friend Marissa who had revealed their secrets. Due to the name of their little group, Fudge and Umbridge were more than happy to pin the entire thing on Dumbledore. Harry felt grateful he had not allowed them to name the group after him, and he felt a sense of satisfaction knowing Dumbledore had to suffer.

He was almost disappointed when Dumbledore managed to knock them all out in one swoop. Watching his headmaster walk towards him and McGonagall, he had to remind himself that despite their disagreements they were on the same side.

“Harry,” Dumbledore said. “I’ve left you alone this year so as to try and not anger you further, but we need to speak before I leave.” Harry said nothing, just gave him a glare. “It is imperative you continue your lessons with Professor Snape. He tells me you are improving. You must keep doing so.”

“Occlumency’s important,” Harry said. “Got it.”

Dumbledore stared hard at Harry over his half-moon spectacles. Harry had always had the impression Dumbledore was looking through him when he did that. But he was standing his ground this time. His headmaster sighed.

“We are in this together Harry,” he said. “Remember that.” He turned to go, but hesitated. “I am sorry for any pain I’ve caused you. I have always done what I thought was best.”

“If you were sorry, you wouldn’t keep doing it,” Harry replied. Dumbledore almost looked sad, but he apparated away without saying another word.

Harry was given many detentions, along with everyone else on the list. News spread quickly. Everyone knew by the following morning what had transpired. The worst wasn’t even the detentions. It was Umbridge as headmaster.

Despite all of this, Harry’s biggest concern was the boy who got him captured. He could not stop picturing Draco’s face, or his angry tone of voice. Did Harry always assume the worst of him? Or was Draco just being petty?

He couldn’t stand aside. Harry knew that. Draco could not be any nicer to Harry than Snape could. Everyone had a role to play and Draco’s was being a good little Slytherin. Not knowing what to do, Harry turned to the only person he could think of.

“What’s up kid?” Sirius asked.

“You seem less occupied today,” Harry commented with a smirk. He laughed when Sirius blushed and grimaced.

“Remus is on Order business,” he replied. “And don’t get cheeky.”

“Hey I’m just following the lead of my elders,” Harry retorted.

“Yeah, yeah,” said Sirius, but he did so with a smile. “Well, caused any more trouble in the last two days?”

“Nope,” Harry said. “Not even a little bit.”

“Good,” Sirius said. “With Dumbledore gone, you’ll have to be extra careful.”

“I know.”

“So, what’s bothering you?” asked his godfather.

“Guess.”

“A certain blond?”

Harry sighed. “He was the one who caught me,” Harry explained. “When I looked in his eyes, it didn’t look like he meant it, and I know he has to play his part, but it still hurts.” Harry ran a hand through his hair. “I broke up with Andrew, but I don’t know if I should try pursuing Draco at this point.”

“Woah, woah, woah,” Sirius exclaimed. “You broke up with Andrew!? When?”

“A few weeks ago.”

“And you didn’t tell me?”

“Sorry,” Harry said. “I was busy.”

“What happened?”

“Well, things were going great,” Harry said. “But I just couldn’t stop thinking about Draco. I didn’t think that was fair to Andrew, and neither did he when I explained.”

“That was…mature of you,” Sirius remarked.

“Yes,” Harry agreed. “It sucked.”

Sirius laughed. “Being mature normally does. Have you talked to Draco since?”

“No,” Harry answered. “We haven’t spoken since he admitted he was gay, but wouldn’t admit he liked me. I don’t know what I should do.”

“I’m assuming you want my advice,” Sirius said. “I can give it, though in this case it is a bit unorthodox for me.”

“Oh?” Harry asked, intrigued.

“Normally, my method is to plunge headfirst into all situations,” Sirius explained. “However, in this case, I think it’s best if you just wait it out.”

“Wait it out?” Harry asked confused.

“Yes,” Sirius responded. “If Draco truly does care for you, and if he really wants to make it work, he will make a move. He will pursue you.”

“And if he doesn’t?”

“Then, he doesn’t want to make it work,” Sirius explained. “And that will hurt, but at least you will know. I’d say that if you don’t make up with him by the end of the year, you can give upon it. Take the summer to move on and start next year fresh.”

Harry nodded. “That makes sense.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I’ll wait.”

Harry did not have to wait long. Less than a week later Draco pushed past him in the hallway and he found a note amongst his things. He met Draco in their usual place, though albeit a bit later than normal due to his detentions. When he arrived, Draco was standing there with a bowl of murtlap essence and some bandages.

Harry stopped in his tracks and stared. Wordlessly, Draco held out his hand. Harry hesitated for a moment, but eventually walked over and gave the blond his own hand. They were both quiet as Draco worked. Harry had to admit, it felt good to have the other boy take care of him, and his hand felt much better when he was finished.

“Thank you,” Harry said softly.

“You’re welcome,” Draco said just as quietly. “Thanks for coming. I wasn’t sure you would.”

“I was just waiting for an invite,” Harry admitted.

Draco was quiet for a moment. “I heard you and Andrew aren’t seeing each other anymore.”

“It wasn’t working out,” Harry responded.

“Why not?” Draco asked.

Harry looked him in the eye. “My heart wasn’t in it.”

Draco gulped and turned away. “I’m sorry for how I’ve been acting,” he said. “And…I’m sorry for the part I played in your capture.”

Harry sighed. “I’m not mad at you for that,” he said. Draco looked at him in surprise. “Well alright, I’m mad that you were involved, but I know you can’t help it. It’s more along the lines of I’m mad you have to be a part of that. But I’m not mad at you. We would have been caught either way.”

Draco looked down. “It doesn’t mean I don’t feel bad,” he said.

“I appreciate that,” Harry said with a small smile. “It means you’re not as bad as I thought.”

“But I’m bad enough?” Draco asked, so quiet Harry almost didn’t catch it.

Harry sighed. “I never said that,” he answered. “I used to think so, but you’ve proven me wrong this year.” He looked Draco in the eye. “I don’t think you’re bad at all. Not really. But you are stubborn as hell.”

Draco laughed, but his heart wasn’t in it. Before Harry knew what was happening, the blond burst into tears. Harry was startled. Before he could react, Draco was trying to wipe the tears away.

“I’m…so…sorry,” he blubbered. “I’m…”

“Shush,” Harry said, finally jumping into action. He surged forward and wrapped his arms around the other boy. “It’s okay.”

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?” Harry asked, holding the blond tighter. “For being human?”

“For being on the wrong side,” Draco sputtered through his tears.

“You were born on the wrong side,” Harry clarified. “That doesn’t mean you’ve chosen that side.” He pulled back and placed his hands on either side of Draco’s head. He looked him in the eyes. “What matters is what you choose.”

Draco stared back at Harry, tears still falling down his face. “And if I say I choose you?”

It was Harry’s turn to be silent. They had been here before. Draco had proclaimed he would be a spy. He would fight for the light. And then he had Harry had fallen out. Yet, here he was. Still standing in front of Harry declaring his side in the war, despite everything they had let come between them.

Sirius had said to wait for Draco. And Draco had stepped up, and shown he was willing to fight. Harry figured that was enough for him.

He surged forward again. This time, instead of wrapping Draco in his arms, he captured his lips. His kiss with Andrew had been nice, but it was nothing like this. Harry felt as though a bolt of lightning was coursing through him.

He pulled away and looked Draco in the eye. The blond looked surprised, but slowly a smile appeared on his face. His joy reflected what Harry was sure could be seen on his own face. Neither hesitated, before giving it another go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I just finished this chapter and quickly proofread it, so I am sorry if there are any mistakes. I didn't get the chance to finish earlier in the week, and I had to prioritize grading today.
> 
> Next week might be late. School really getting into it now. I have more grading next weekend, AND I will be out of town for a conference AND its Mardi Gras. So if next week is late, that's why.
> 
> I also wanted the Andrew beak-up to go differently, but I didn't have the energy to spend the time it would require on it. My original plan was to have Andrew be the one to suggest to Harry that he didn't think Harry's heart was in it, but it didn't turn out that way as I wrote.


	26. Poor Moral Decisions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I literally finished writing this on my last flight, so if there are mistakes, I apologize.

It took Harry a while to fall asleep that night. He kept replaying everything—over and over again.

_They had kissed for what felt like hours, but was likely only a few minutes. At first they were urgent, as if to make up for lost time, but soon their actions turned languid, cherishing each moment._

_ “What now?” Draco asked. _

_ “I’m good with this,” Harry had answered._

_ Draco had laughed. “You know what I meant,” he said. “What happens now?”_

_ Harry caressed Draco’s face. “Like I said, I’m good with this,” he answered. “Me and you. Right here.”_

_ “We can’t tell anyone,” Draco said._

_ “We can’t tell the public,” Harry replied. “There are some we can tell.”_

_ “You know what I mean.”_

_ “I do,” Harry said. “And I can live with that. So long as we both leave this room knowing where we stand.”_

_ “I’m yours.”_

_ “And I’m yours.”_

Harry nearly forgot to clear his mind before falling asleep. He didn’t want to, not this time. But he knew how important it was. He didn’t want any visions to cloud this night. Still, when he drifted off to sleep, he did it with a smile.

The following morning, Harry told Neville and Hermione what had transpired. Well, he may have given them a bit of an abridged version. But he also shared a warning Draco had given him.

“The Inquisitorial Squad?” Neville asked. “What can they do exactly?”

“Everything Prefects can and more,” Harry explained. “They can dock house points. And it’s all the Slytherins we hate. Spread the word, and try not to piss them off.”

As Harry tried to keep his own advice, he was waylaid by Filch. He was brought to Umbridge’s office, where he pretended to drink tea and lied to her face. Well, mostly lied.

“Where is Albus Dumbledore?”

“No idea,” Harry answered truthfully.

“The two of you have been in this together since the beginning,” she insisted. “I know you know of his whereabouts.”

Harry laughed and watched as Umbridge’s face blotched red with anger. “Dumbledore and I may be on the same side, but that doesn’t mean we’re in this together,” he said, still laughing. “Anyone who knows me knows well enough I can’t stand the man.”

She pursed her lips. “Where is Sirius Black?”

Harry nearly spilt his cup of tea. “I don’t know,” he answered quickly.

“You can claim to hate Dumbledore,” she said. “But you know where Sirius Black is. Tell me.”

“I don’t know,” he insisted.

“Very well,” she said, unsatisfied. “But know that all channels of communication in this castle are monitored. The floo networks, the owls, the—”

BOOM!

“What the?” Umbridge asked. “Dismissed Mr. Potter.” Harry dumped out the tea when Umbridge wasn’t looking and eagerly followed her. Seeing Fred and George’s handiwork brightened his day. He even had a moment alone with Draco later that evening to rejoice in it together. Draco regaled Harry with Umbridge’s struggles clearing up the fireworks. As a member of the Inquisitorial Squad, he had been given front row seats.

Once more, Harry went to bed thinking of Draco’s lips, and in all the excitement, skipped one crucial step.

_He was once again in the dark corridor. The door opened at his touch and he found himself standing in the circular room lined with doors…he chose one and it opened as easily as the first…he was in a rectangular room filled with mechanical clicking…he couldn’t stop…he went through the next door…he was in a dimly lit room with towering shelves…he knew where he wanted to go…there was something here he needed….if he could just make it…_

BANG! Harry awoke immediately. He could hear laughter and the sounds of his dorm mates marveling at another one of Fred and George’s fireworks. He was angry at the timing, but he knew he shouldn’t have seen what he had anyway. It appeared as if he was going to need another occlumency lesson.

***

Harry glumly made his way to Snape’s office. He had been able to get notice to his professor, who had instructed him to come down that very night. He had just been confronted by Cho. They had remained on good terms after he had turned her down, but Marietta’s betrayal had raised contention. He had also been unable to meet with Draco this evening. He knew walking into his lesson with so much on his mind was not ideal, but he really couldn’t find the energy to care.

“You’re late,” Snape said.

“I know,” Harry answered with a sigh. “I’m sorry.” He plopped himself down in a chair. “I had another dream last night.”

“I assumed,” Snape replied. “What was it?”

“I saw the corridor that leads to the Department of Mysteries again,” he explained. “This time I made it in though. I went through a couple rooms to a one with a bunch of shelves. It felt very urgent, but I woke up before I could find what I was looking for.”

Snape’s face had grown more severe as he talked. “I don’t like the sound of that,” he replied curtly. “That sounds an awful lot like the Dark Lord is making you see these things.”

“Wouldn’t that mean he’s aware of the connection?” Harry asked.

“Yes it would,” Snape said standing up. “I will see what I can find out, but in the meantime, your lessons are more important than ever.”

“But—”

“No buts,” Snape interrupted. “Wand at the ready. We’re going to practice hard tonight. Ready, let—”

Snape was cut off as his door banged open.

“Professor Snape, sir...oh…sorry…”

“It’s alright, Draco,” Snape said. “Potter is here for remedial potions.”

Draco looked towards Harry in confusion. “Occlumency,” Harry said. Snape looked up sharply, but Harry cut him off. “It’s okay Professor. Draco’s on our side.”

Draco nodded. “Yes sir,” he said. “It’s true.”

“Well, then,” Snape responded. “What is it?”

“They’ve found Montague, sir,” Draco answered. “He’s jammed in a toilet on the third floor.”

“Very well,” Snape replied. “Potter, we shall resume this tomorrow evening. Make sure you practice.”

“I can help him, sir” Draco offered.

Snape raised an eyebrow. “You’re good, but you’re not that good.” He turned to Harry. “Tomorrow Potter.”

With that, he swept from the room. Rather than follow him, Draco turned towards Harry and smiled.

“Remedial potions?” he asked with an infuriating smirk.

“Shut up,” Harry replied, moving forward to kiss him. He was glad they would have this small moment.

“I guess we do get to see each other today after all,” Draco said, echoing Harry’s thoughts.

“Wish it was longer,” Harry said with a sigh. He touched his forehead to Draco’s. “You should probably head back up there.”

“Yeah, I know,” Draco murmured. “In a moment.” He gave Harry a soft kiss. Harry was the one to pull away. There would be questions if Draco didn’t reappear.

“Come on,” he said, grabbing Draco’s hand and tugging him towards the door. As he turned to leave the room, something sparkly caught his eye. He turned and saw what looked like Dumbledore’s pensive sitting on Snape’s desk.

“What is it?” Draco asked.

“The pensive,” Harry answered. Confusion crossed Draco’s face, but only for a moment.

“Oh, because of the occlumency,” Draco responded. “He did that for me to.” It was Harry’s turn to look confused. “When you do this, there is a chance you could enter his own mind. He makes himself vulnerable by opening up with us. Of course, he’s much stronger at kicking us out, but still, I guess there are things he doesn’t want us to risk seeing.”

“I saw some once,” Harry said, walking closer to the pensive. “Childhood stuff. Just fleeting glimpses.”

Draco looked from the pensive to Harry. “What, you want to know all of our professor’s dark secrets?”

“Just one,” Harry mumbled, fingering the edge of the silver bowl.

“Which one?” Draco asked, watching closely.

“The adults are keeping information from me,” Harry explained. “Information about what Voldemort is doing. I’ve pieced together small parts, but I want the whole. And they’ll never tell me.”

“It would be wrong to view his memories without his permission,” Draco pointed out.

“I know,” Harry said. “I shouldn’t. But I don’t want to see just any memory. I want to see what I have a right to know about.” He looked up at Draco. “He’s seen my moments. All my private moments, while I was helpless to stop him. I just want some information. That’s all.” Draco still looked skeptical. “You don’t have to stay. Go, help them with Montague.”

“And leave you here to get in all kinds of trouble?” Draco asked. “I don’t think so.” He grabbed the hand Harry had let go in his distraction. “What you see, I see.”

Harry nodded. He turned towards the pensive. “On the count of three. One. Two. Three.” Both boys took a deep breath and plunged their heads into the silvery liquid. Within moments, they were no longer in Snape’s office, though the scene was quite familiar.

“We’re in the Great Hall,” Draco said looking around at all the students scribbling furiously at their desks. “It must be exam time.”

Harry looked down at the student in front of him. A lanky, scrawny boy with oily black hair and a large noise was bent over his paper so much so that his noise almost touched it. “This must be Snape,” he said. Draco started to say something about their young professor, but Harry wasn’t listening. He had just realized, if Snape was here, so were his parents. He looked up. The red hair he found easily, several rows away, also writing furiously. In another few seconds, he had located his father. Before Draco realized what was happening, Harry had left his side and was standing in front of James Potter.

Harry wanted nothing more than to reach out and touch him, but he knew that wasn’t how memories worked.

“It seems everyone was right,” Draco piped up from behind him. Harry turned in confusion. “You do look just like him. It must be like looking in a mirror for you.” Harry looked back at his father and studied the young boy before him. What Draco said was true. With the absence of green eyes, the young man before him could have been his twin. “This isn’t the memory you were looking for Harry.”

“I know.”

“We should leave,” Draco insisted. Harry couldn’t find the words to reply. He looked at Draco helplessly. Draco must have seen the desperate longing in his eyes. The blond sighed. “Alright, we can stay for a bit. But we can’t stay here long Harry.” Harry nodded and turned back to his father.

As they waited for the exam to finish, it appeared the students were nearly out of time. Harry looked around for other familiar faces. He pointed his mother out to Draco, and then Sirius. “He looks so handsome,” Harry said. “I mean, he’s still handsome, but Azkaban really messed him up.”

“It’ll do that,” Draco said quietly. Together they found Remus, and then Peter. Harry clenched his fists.

“This is the rat who got my parents murdered,” he said angrily.

“I know,” Draco said, squeezing Harry’s hand. “But there’s nothing you can do about that now.” Soon, the moderator called time and collected the papers. “We’ll have to follow Snape if we’re staying Harry. It’s his memory.”

Harry looked around in panic, but it was short lived. Fate was on his side as his mother walked ahead of Snape with some friends, and his father’s group a short way behind. They all ended up on the lawn within range of the other. Harry and Draco left Snape to his own devices, hovered over his exam notes checking answers, and placed themselves by the Marauders.

He watched eagerly as his father interacted with his friends. James Potter had a bad habit of running his hand through his hair. He sat and busied himself playing with a stolen snitch, much to Peter’s enjoyment. He looked at his godfather and Remus.

“They mustn’t have admitted their feelings yet,” Harry whispered to Draco. He knew they couldn’t hear him, but he didn’t want to disturb the peace nonetheless. “They figured out they were gay because they had feelings for each other. Look how they’re sitting.” He pointed between them. “Barely any space, leaning towards one another.”

“They’re practically shouting it to the entire school,” Draco agreed as they watched the two young men exchange small, secret smiles. “Everyone else must have known.” He then looked at Harry with a teasing smirk. “Then again, if you get your cluelessness from your father it was probably quite the shock to him.”

Harry playfully shoved the blond. “Ha, ha, ha,” he said. He made to stand up. “Come on. We should go. This isn’t what I came to see.” He stood up, and then offered Draco a hand. Right as they turned to leave, Harry heard something that stopped him in his tracks.

“Hey look who it is Prongs,” Sirius drawled. “Snivellus.”

Harry and Draco watched helplessly as the Marauders went after their professor, who had done nothing to provoke such an attack. Anger filled Harry’s stomach as he saw how quickly Snape had reacted upon hearing their voices. It was useless, as he was four against one. They watched as James and his friends dangled Snape upside down, exposing him to the entire school.

Harry felt sick to his stomach. “That’s my dad,” he said in disgust. “Everyone’s always told me how great he was, but he’s not great at all.”

“It’s just one day,” Draco insisted. “One bad moment.”

“Do you really believe that?”

“No.”

“I didn’t think so,” Harry said. He watched on in horror. He was momentarily soothed when he saw his mother come to Snape’s rescue, only to be disappointed when the potions professor called her the worst insult imaginable.

“He was under distress Harry,” Draco said. Harry glanced his way before turning back to the spectacle. “People say things they don’t mean when they are under distress.”

They watched a few moments more, as James threatened to take off Snape’s pants. Harry was just about to exclaim he had had enough and wanted to leave, when he heard the worst sound possible.

“Having fun,” a familiar voice growled from behind them. The two boys barely had enough time to look at each other in shock and fear before their collars were yanked backyards and they found themselves sprawled in Snape’s office, with the professor in question towering over them. Harry thought he had never seen the man so furious.

“Prof…” Harry began.

“Get out,” he snarled through clenched teeth.

“No,” Harry said.

“No?” Snape exclaimed. “NO! You little—”

“I’m not leaving,” Harry yelled over him. “I want…I have something to say, and I’m going to say it whether you like it or not.” Before Snape could respond he turned to Draco. “Go. This was my fault. Go and let me deal with it.”

“You sure?” Draco whispered. Harry nodded. Draco through one last small glance at their fuming professor, before giving Harry a peck on the lips and a quiet “good luck.”

“How dare you?” Snape growled after Draco had left. “The insol—”

“I know,” Harry interrupted. “It was wrong, and I shouldn’t have. I was looking for information about the Department of Mysteries. I never meant to see what I saw. But that’s no excuse. You can punish me as you see fit, but I saw what I saw, and I have something to say about it.”

“Oh, you do, do you?”

“Yes,” Harry responded. He took a deep breath. “I wanted to say I was sorry, and that I understand.”

A look of surprise flickered across the potion master’s face. “What?”

“I’m sorry for the way he, they, treated you,” Harry explained. “And I understand why you hated me so much. I look just like him, and I guess I’ve been arrogant and insolent at times. But I sincerely hope I’ve never been as bad as he was.” Harry looked down at the floor. “Have I been?”

Snape had deflated has Harry spoke. He was still seething with anger, but he seemed to have it somewhat under control. “Today yes,” he said. “Today you were just as bad.”

Harry squeezed his eyes shut against the words. “I’m sorry,” he muttered.

“Most days,” Snape continued. “Most days I see a great deal of your mother in you.” Harry looked up in surprise. “You can be arrogant, and you have a serious disregard for rules and authority. But no, you haven’t been as bad as your father.” Harry’s look of surprise turned to gratitude.

“Really?”

“You fight when you are provoked,” Snape said. “I have rarely seen you attack or cause harm when there was no cause. Your father didn’t need a cause. He was the cause.”

Harry blinked back angry tears. “All anyone has ever said was that he was good,” he said. “I never believed you when you said otherwise.”

Snape nodded. “You never knew him yourself,” he said. “You wanted to believe the best.”

“Did he…did he do things like that often?” Harry asked quietly.

Snape sighed, and threw himself into a chair. “That was one of the worst I think,” Snape answered. “But yes, he did things like this often. To Slytherins. To me.”

“Did you ever start it?” Harry asked hopefully.

“In the later years yes,” Snape replied. “Eventually, you come to expect the attack, and you respond before it comes.” Harry looked crestfallen. “We both did our fair share of horrible things. And I own mine. But I can’t look you in the eye and say we were even.”

“And my mother?” Harry asked.

“I don’t want to talk about that,” Snape said curtly.

Harry looked up in surprise. “But—”

“But nothing,” Snape said standing up. “This conversation is over. I’ll grant you a pass, just this once. If you ever do something like this again there will be hell to pay. And 20 points from Gryffindor.”

Harry nodded glumly. He started to walk towards the door, but something in his face must have moved his stone of a professor.

“She was kind,” Snape said. Harry looked up at him. “Your mother was one of the kindest people I’ve ever met. And I did her a disservice that day, calling her what I did.”

Harry nodded, and gave Snape a grateful smile. “Thank you. And really, I’m sorry professor.” Snape nodded, and the two parted without a word.

Harry’s head was spinning. If you had told him first year that there would be a day when he sided with Snape over his own father, he would have laughed until he cried. But today he faced a dilemma. What was the truth about his father?

Yesterday he would have answered with confidence. Today he was no longer sure, but he knew just who to ask.

He walked briskly back to his common room, not stopping for anything. He brushed off his friends, and went straight to his empty dorm room. He fished out his two-way mirror and sat on the seat by the window.

“Sirius!” he called. “Sirius! You there?”

“Yeah,” a voice called back. “Give us a mo’.” Harry heard the sounds of shuffling, and then both his godfather and Remus appeared in the mirror. “Hey there kid. Got into any more trouble lately?”

“Depends on what you define as trouble,” Harry replied. “Draco and I are together, but that’s not why I called.”

“There’s something going on that’s more important to you than Draco?” Sirius asked with a smirk. “Do tell?”

Harry recounted what he and Draco had done, and what they saw. “Why didn’t anyone tell me he was like that?” Harry demanded. “How come every keeps telling me how great he is?”

The smile had been wiped off of Sirius’ face as Harry had talked. He and Remus exchanged nervous looks. “Look, Harry, you have to understand, your dad and Severus didn’t get along from the start,” Remus said. “They got under each other’s skin. Your dad wasn’t like that all the time.”

“Yeah, and Snivellus is a Death Eater anyway,” Sirius added. “Your dad wasn’t going around attacking random people.”

“It doesn’t matter who it was!” Harry exclaimed. “If we lower ourselves to those kinds of acts, we’re just as bad as the other side! You can’t just treat people that way!”

“You’re right Harry,” Remus said. “But—”

“No buts Remus!” Harry interrupted. “You can’t just dangle someone upside and expose them to the entire school. That’s not okay. And as if that wasn’t bad enough, he didn’t even do anything to you! He was minding his own business! You attacked him because you were bored!”

Sirius sighed and Remus looked guilty. “I understand where you’re coming from Harry,” Sirius said. “But you can’t judge off of just one incident. There’s so much more to this rivalry.”

“I don’t care what kind of animosity is between you guys,” Harry countered. “Nothing gives you the right to do what you did to him.”

“It’s not as if he was perfect!” Sirius exclaimed. “As I remember it, he called your mother a mudblood during that incident!”

“He was under distress,” Harry said. “He was being humiliated.” He remembered Draco’s words. “People say things they don’t mean under those circumstances.” Sirius went to speak, but Harry kept going. “And, he was sorry. He felt bad about it! Did my dad ever feel sorry for what he did?”

Sirius and Remus exchanged glances. “Your dad never liked Snape, and that didn’t change,” Remus explained. “But he did calm a bit once he started dating your mum.”

“I don’t see why my mum would have chosen to be with someone like that,” Harry said.

“He was very persistent your father,” Remus said. “And he did calm as the years went by.”

“What do you mean by “calm down a bit”?” Harry asked.

“Well, he started dating your mother and…well…”

“Stopped doing it in her presence?” Harry asked. “That’s not changing. And that’s not being sorry.”

“We know Harry,” Remus said. “But there was so much more to your father than this.”

“I don’t know that there is anything that can make up for this kind of assault,” Harry said.

“I personally think that’s a bit harsh kid,” Sirius said.

“This coming from the man who tried to kill Snape,” Harry protested. He was fuming. He had called Sirius in the hopes that his godfather would make him feel better about the entire situation, but he only felt worse.

Sirius looked like he had been slapped in the face. Remus looked ashamed. “Harry…” Sirius began.

“Save it,” Harry interrupted. “I don’t want any more of your excuses.” With that, Harry got up, and proceeded to shove the mirror all the way to the bottom of his trunk. He slammed the lid and kneeled in front of it blinking back tears. It felt like his entire world was crumbling. Snape had said he took after his mother, but how much of his father did he have? He had violated a man’s privacy tonight in a big way. Was he capable of more? 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's on time! Way! Now to get home!


	27. If You Wanna be My Lover...

Harry hastily got ready. He had not reemerged from his dorm room after speaking with Sirius. Rather than deal with anyone’s questions, he forced the night’s issues from his mind and made himself do homework. He was hoping to bypass his curious friends this morning as well. As he hurried from the restroom, he collided with something solid.

He looked up into the startled face of Ron. He had not spoken to the redhead since their fight at Christmas. In all honesty, he had not even thought about the other boy in some time. Ron had taken up residence in the lives of Dean and Seamus. Harry saw him in classes and even in the D.A. meetings, but they did not speak. Looking at him now, Harry was surprised to realize he no longer held any anger towards his former friend. He had no desire to reclaim the friendship, but neither did it cause him pain.

“Sorry,” he said. “I wasn’t paying attention.” Ron nodded tersely, but said nothing. And that was that. Harry walked up to his bunk, grabbed his things, and made his way to breakfast. The good news was that Easter break meant he didn’t have classes for a week. While studying certainly had to be on the agenda, exams were only six weeks away after all, he was fully planning on utilizing some of the time to spend with a certain blond.

It would seem that blond had the same idea. As he was eating, a note found its way under his plate. He had to admire the blond’s creativeness.

_I thought you may want to use your break wisely. Study session in the room of requirement at 1pm?_

Harry glanced Draco’s way and gave him what he hoped was a subtle smile and nod before looking away. Unfortunately, he was cursed with a persistent friend. He managed to put off discussing what was bothering him until after lunch, by allowing Hermione to make he and Neville study charts for the remaining weeks. But Hermione wouldn’t be deterred.

“Harry please won’t you tell us what’s bothering you?” Hermione asked for the 100th time. “Maybe we could help?”

Harry sighed. He was making his way to he and Draco’s meeting, but Hermione and Neville wouldn’t let up. “It’s not important.”

“Your sour attitude all day would suggest otherwise,” Hermione argued.

“Normally, I’d be on your side,” Neville added. “But you did seem really upset last night. Are you sure you don’t want to talk?”

They had reached the room of requirement, and Harry opened his mouth to argue. Before he could speak, they heard the unmistakable sound of Filch. “Shit,” Harry said, not wanting to be confronted by the caretaker. “Come on quickly.” Harry opened the room he wanted and shoved Neville and Hermione inside.

“Harry what is—” Hermione began, but was caught off guard by an unusual sight. They had not, as Hermione and Neville assumed they would, entered a hiding spot. Instead, they found themselves in what appeared to be a cozy study room. Sitting on a table near the fire, with books and parchment spread out, was none other than Draco Malfoy. “Oh.”

Harry had never really understood the phrase “you could cut the tension with a knife,” but he did now. No one in the room seemed to know what to say.

“Uhh, you guys know Draco,” Harry decided on. Hermione and Draco looked at Harry as if he was the biggest moron they had ever seen. Harry couldn’t help but think that if Neville weren’t so frightened he would share that same look.

“I didn’t realize we would have company,” Draco said.

“We didn’t realize you were meeting someone,” Hermione countered.

“Uh, we should leave, right?” Neville squeaked. He turned to walk out, but Harry grabbed him.

“No, don’t,” he said. “Stay.” He looked between the three of them. “So…” he settled on Neville and Hermione. “Remember when I told you that I liked Draco?” They both nodded silently, still glancing apprehensively at the blond, who hadn’t moved from his spot at the table. “Well, uh…he’s sort of my boyfriend now.” Harry blushed with the admission. He looked to Draco, who was also blushing, but smiling. He looked at his friends, and couldn’t help but laugh at their shocked expressions.

Hermione was the first to pick her jaw up off the floor. “Oh, well…that’s wonderful,” she said.

Draco rolled his eyes. “Don’t sound so enthusiastic,” he said. Harry shot him a pointed glare. Draco lowered his eyes to the floor.

“Look, Draco and I were planning on studying together,” he explained. “I didn’t intend to bring you guys with me, but now that you’re here, I want you to stay.” All three of his companions looked up in shock. “Draco is my boyfriend.” He turned to Draco. “And Hermione and Neville are my best friends. You are all important to me, and it would really mean a lot if you all tried to get along.” Harry looked between the three of them, and waited to see what would happen.

Draco cleared his throat, and everyone looked towards him. “I uh…I guess I should go first,” he said. “I guess…well, I’m sorry for the way I’ve treated you all. It’s taken some time, but I’ve finally come to realize that…well, maybe blood and houses don’t matter as much as I thought they did.” Harry’s eyes had widened in shock as Draco apologized, but he shot the blond a grateful smile.

“You’ve still been a pretty big jerk,” Neville sad quietly, surprising everyone.

“He has to be,” Harry interjected quickly. “He can’t let people know he’s on our side. Just like Snape.”

“That makes sense I guess,” Neville said.

“Look, I’m not saying you guys have to be immediate best friends,” Harry said. “I just want you guys to try and get along, for my sake.” He stared them down until all three gave him a nod. “Now,” he looked towards Hermione, “do you want to know why I am upset or not?” Hermione nodded eagerly, and they made their way to the table Draco was at.

Harry and Draco explained what they had witnessed the previous night. Then, Harry filled them all in on his conversations with both Snape and Sirius and Remus.

“So, you know, it’s just really upsetting,” he finished. “I’ve spent all this time idolizing my father and being proud when people told me I was like him. And now, well now I don’t think they were complementing me.”

“Don’t say that Harry,” Hermione insisted. “There’s no excuse for your father’s behavior. But there had to be good in him.” Harry looked up at her in confusion. “You are nothing like the memory you described. You’ve never even come close to being like that, and you never will. It’s not in you Harry. No one can deny the two of you share an infuriating knack for trouble, the rest of the similarities have to mean there was some good in him too.”

“I agree,” Draco said, surprising them all. “I’ve never seen you like that. If people are saying you resemble him, I don’t think they meant it in a bad way. They might be biased themselves, but I don’t think it was intended as an insult. Unless it was Snape of course.” Harry laughed, and grabbed Draco’s hand gratefully.

“You know,” Neville added. “Now that I think about it. Whenever I’ve heard people compare you to your father, it’s usually about quidditch or your appearance. You can both look alike and be good athletes but have completely different personalities.”

“Exactly!” Hermione agreed. Draco nodded, and Harry felt relieved.

“Thanks guys,” he said.

“What are you going to do about Sirius?” Neville asked.

Harry sighed. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “He doesn’t seem apologetic.”

“Maybe he just needs time,” Hermione offered.

“Sometimes people need to think for a while before they realize they’re a git,” Draco suggested. “And I would know.”

At that, they all shared a laugh, and finally got to work. Draco got along surprisingly well with his friends all things considered. He practically drooled over Hermione’s study charts, and she graciously made one for him. Harry and Neville rolled their eyes, but said nothing. They afternoon flew by smoothly, though with much less kissing than Harry had hoped for. Still, things were looking positive.

The reprieve continued throughout the week. Harry alternated between studying with his friends and his boyfriend, sometimes in a mixture of the four. He hoped all the good times meant the worst was over. Towards the end of the week, all the fifth years received notice of career counseling. The good news continued, Harry would have to miss divination for his meeting.

Saturday evening found the four of them back in the room of requirement pouring over the career information that had been provided for them. Harry was baffled. Wizard careers were something he had thought little about. As silly as it sounds, it had not occurred to him he would have to use the skills he was learning to choose a career.

“What are you guys leaning towards?” Harry asked.

“I’m not sure,” Hermione admitted. “There are so many options, and I know so little about most of them. I’ll have to do some serious research before my appointment.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “What about you Neville?”

“Not many options,” he said. “I’m not good at anything.”

“Don’t say that!” Harry insisted. “You’ve been improving all year Neville!”

“I know,” Neville said. “But I’m still only really good at herbology.”

“That’s really important,” Draco piped up. He had been awfully quiet as they had discussed the various careers. “Everyone needs magical herbs. You should talk to Professor Sprout before you meet with McGonagall.”

“That’s a great idea,” Hermione agreed.

Neville nodded. He even smiled a little. “Thanks guys,” he said. “I’ll do that.”

Harry turned to Draco. “What about you?”

“I’m going to follow my father’s footsteps and go to work for the Ministry,” he said. But he was staring forlornly at a healer pamphlet from St. Mungo’s.

“You don’t sound positive about that,” Harry said.

Draco pushed the pamphlet aside. “I am,” he said. “It’s my responsibility.”

Harry sighed. “You don’t have to do what they want you to,” Harry said quietly. He grabbed Draco’s hand. “What about healing?”

“Yes, Draco,” Hermione said. “I think you’d be good at that.” She picked up the pamphlet. “Potions, charms, herbology, transfiguration. You’re good at all of these things. You’re at the top of the class in most classes aren’t you?.”

“Just under you as my father loves to remind me,” he said, giving her a glare they knew by now he didn’t mean.

“Sorry, not sorry?” she said sheepishly.

Draco huffed. He picked the pamphlet back up. “It does sound like fun,” he admitted. “But my father would never let it happen.”

“You don’t have to listen to him,” Harry insisted.

“It’s complicated.”

“Well, it can’t hurt to talk to Snape about it,” Hermione said. “He’s on our side anyway. You could just make sure you take the classes necessary for the ministry job your father wants you to have _and_ the ones for being a healer. I’m sure they overlap.”

“Yeah,” Harry agreed. “Who knows, by the time you finish school, things may be different.”

“Alright, alright” Draco said. “Fine.” He threw the pamphlet at Harry. This started a battle of pamphlets. They got so distracted no one asked Harry what he wanted.

But he couldn’t avoid the question for long. Before he knew it, his meeting with McGonagall arrived. To his disappointment, Umbridge was also there.

“Uhh…” was his reply when she asked what his thoughts were.

“Surely something caught your eye,” she said. “Not one of the pamphlets sounded appealing?”

“Well…the only one that really sounded interesting was being an Auror,” he said.

“Hmm,” McGonagall replied.

“You disagree?” he asked.

“Not exactly,” she replied. “I was thinking, giving,” she paused and shot a quick glance to the back corner where Umbridge was sitting, “giving Mr. Longbottom’s improvement this year, which I know you were involved with, that perhaps teaching would suit you?” She gave him a pointed look.

Harry started. He had never thought of that. But he had to admit, she had a point. And he certainly had experience. Everyone involved in the D.A. had improved over the year, and he had to admit he enjoyed it.

“I hadn’t thought of that, but I kind of like the idea,” he admitted.

“Of course,” she added. “It’s rare that someone will go straight to teaching without some experience in their field. In which case, an Auror would likely be a good fit, but you need top marks for that.” Harry listened as McGonagall instructed him of all the things he would need to do. He had to admit, the idea of putting more effort into his transfiguration and potions work, as well as additional schooling after leaving Hogwarts was not what he wanted to hear. But he couldn’t help but feeling excited. Finally, he felt he was facing a career he could really do. And if it led him back to teaching, all the better.

His resolve was strengthened as he watched McGonagall and Umbridge trade verbal insults over his career choices. He was not going to let his head of house down. And he was not going to let Umbridge win. He left the room feeling more satisfied than he had in days, and determined to do whatever it took to make this work. It appeared Hermione’s study schedule was going to come in useful after all.

His good mood only intensified by that evening’s events. Right as he was making his way to the Room of Requirement to meet with Draco and share with him the news, he was distracted by rather loud bangs and shouts from downstairs. When he arrived to investigate, he was met with a most marvelous sight. Fred and George, it would seem, had saw fit to turn a corridor into a swamp. Several members of the Inquisitorial Squad, and even Umbridge herself were doused with sludgy water.

He watched on as the twins gleefully regained their brooms, gave Peeves a decree he’d be pleased to follow, and flew out of the castle in true Weasley Wizarding Wheezes style.

The days that followed only got better. Following in the twin’s footsteps, the rest of the student body were more than happy to continue the ruckus. The other professors appeared blind to the mayhem, leaving everything for their new headmistress to deal with.

Naturally, the good times couldn’t last, though if you asked Hermione, he was overreacting a bit. Harry was, of course, concerned with quidditch. While Slytherin had narrowly loss to Hufflepuff, which resulted in a wonderful night where Harry acted the proper boyfriend and consoled his partner, Gryffindor could not hope for a win. Though Harry was no longer friends with Ron, he had hoped the red-head would improve. He was still quite awful. The most they could hope for was an honorable loss.

Harry’s prime concern however, was still the fact that he couldn’t play. And to make matters worse, not only would he not have a cute brunette to distract him this time, but his cute blond would be on the other side actively rooting against him.

“You may be my boyfriend, but even if I didn’t have to pretend to hate you I still wouldn’t want Gryffindor to win,” Draco had said the previous day. Harry could hardly get angry, as he was more than happy to watch Slytherin lose.

Luckily, or not depending on how you look at things, Hagrid appeared with a ready-made distraction. Though neither Harry nor Hermione could say they were pleased at entering the Forbidden Forrest with Hagrid, they were happy not to watch what was bound to be a dismal match. Much to their utter dismay, by the time Hagrid had revealed his request to them, they very well wished they had just stayed and watched the game.

“Hagrid you’ve got to me kidding me,” Harry expressed.

“He don’t need food or anythin’!” Hagrid tried to explain. “It’s jus’ company he needs. If I knew someone was carryin’ on tryin’ ter help him.”

“It sounds like a lot to ask, Hagrid,” Hermione said.

“I know,” Hagrid said. “But it’d mean an awful lot.”

Harry sighed. “Hagrid, do you realize what it’s like for us right now?” Harry asked. “We have O.W.L.s. We have the threat of Voldemort. I’m trying to practice occlumency. And I’m about an inch away from being expelled. It’s not that we don’t want to help you Hagrid, but you have to understand what you’re asking us.”

“I know,” Hagrid said again. “But it’s just for a little while.”

Harry looked at Hermione. She bit her lip, and sighed. “Oh alright,” she said. “We’ll try Hagrid.”

Harry crossed his arms in anger, but said nothing. He couldn’t say that he would make much of an effort. This was only enhanced when they actually say Grawp awake. Harry rather thought he had everything figured out on his own.

“I can’t believe you agreed to that,” Harry said as he and Hermione rushed to catch up with the crowd of students leaving the stadium.

“I didn’t really mean it,” she admitted sheepishly. “Besides, it’s only if he gets sacked, and then it’s only if we can manage to make it out of the castle into the forest. Those are a lot of big ifs.”

“Fair enough,” Harry said. “But—” Harry stopped short. The crowd had been singing what he assumed was the ever popular “Weasley is our King” anthem. They were, but it was not the version they were used too. They watched in awe as the Gryffindor’s marched past carrying Ron above them.

“Hermione,” Harry said. “I think we won.”

“No, it can’t be,” Hermione protested.

“We did!” Harry exclaimed. Despite not being Ron’s friend anymore, Harry felt a since of pride. He quickly joined the throng of celebrating Gryffindors, leaving all thoughts of giants behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I titled this after the Spice Girls. I’ve been very stressed, and it amuses me.
> 
> Sorry this one is a bit short, but we are close to the end! The remaining chapters may not be as long as previous ones either, as there isn’t much left. The events leading up to the night at the ministry aren’t changing much, so I won’t spend much time recounting them. So basically, only a couple chapters left!
> 
> Also, I’ve read several fanfics of Healer Draco and I love the idea so I ran with it here!


	28. The Trouble with Exams

“I just don’t understand why you’re bothering to rub it in when you didn’t even get to watch the game,” Draco whined for about the 100th time. They were “studying” in the Room of Requirement. Really, Harry was laying with his head in Draco’s lap, as the blond ran his hands through Harry’s hair. Oh, and he was still going on about the quidditch match.

“Oh and you wouldn’t do the same in your position?” Harry asked.

“Maybe,” Draco mumbled. “I still can’t believe you saw a giant.”

“It wasn’t as cool as it sounds,” Harry claimed.

“It never is with you,” Draco exclaimed in the voice he reserved for when Harry exasperated him. “Finding the Sorcerer’s Stone: not as cool as it sounds. Walking around the chamber of secrets, fighting a basilisk: not as cool as it sounds. An invisibility cloak and a map that lets you see everyone in the castle: lame. Triwizard Tournament: wish you were never in it! You’re ridiculous.”

“If you had my life you’d wish you didn’t have to do all those things either,” Harry protested. “But I’ve got to admit the cloak and the map are pretty awesome.” Draco rolled his eyes.

“You ready for exams?” Draco asked.

“No,” Harry said with a sigh. “But I don’t have a choice.”

“You spent half of the year teaching other students these spells,” Draco said. “You’ll be fine.”

“Thanks,” Harry said. He leaned forward and captured Draco’s lips in his own. They didn’t get much studying done after that.

***

Harry felt like he blinked, and exams were upon them. Two whole weeks of exams??? Whose idea was that anyway? One by one though, Harry made it through them. Charms, Transfiguration, Herbology, Defense. Just like that, one week was down. Harry felt confident he had done pretty well on all of his exams. Knowing Umbridge was watching as he got what he was certain was an “outstanding” in defense helped him enter the weekend with gusto.

Friday night saw Harry waiting in the Room of Requirement for Draco. He and Hermione had their Ancient Runes exam that day. Harry had not asked Hermione to join them, but he figured she would want to spend the evening studying anyway.

“How’d you do?” Harry asked as Draco entered the room, looking exhausted.

“Good. I’m just tired. Some of us,” he gave a pointed look at Harry, “didn’t have the day off today.”

“Hey it’s not my fault you took Ancient Ruins,” Harry said with a laugh, pulling his boyfriend down onto the sofa with him.

“I suppose I’ll feel better when you have to take divination and I don’t,” Draco said with a grin.

“Well, I can fail divination and still become an auror,” Harry said. “Potions on the other hand…” he trailed off.

“I can help you study?” Draco offered.

“Tomorrow,” Harry answered. “Let’s relax tonight.”

“Any ideas?” Draco said with a smirk.

“A few.”

***

Potions. Care of Magical Creatures. Astronomy theory. Divination. As Harry had predicted Friday evening, he was certain he had failed the last one. The rest though, he felt he had done alright. Draco had indeed helped him study over the weekend, and he felt confident he had not failed at least.

Around 11p.m. Wednesday evening, Harry and Hermione made their way up to the Astronomy Tower for their practical exam. Everything hit the fan then. Harry and his classmates watched in horror as Umbridge and several others attacked Hagrid, then McGonagall. If he had thought he hated Umbridge before, it was nothing to how he felt about her now. Watching his head of house take four stunners right to the chest was heartbreaking.

It was with a heavy head he walked into his afternoon History of Magic exam the following day. He had not gotten much sleep, nor been able to concentrate on studying. His thoughts were still on Umbridge, Hagrid, and McGonagall.

Harry tried. He really did. He put every effort he had into remembering his lessons. But it’s hard enough just trying to remember something you were never listening to in the first place. Add a severe lack of sleep on top of that and it was nearly impossible. All Harry could manage was to bungle his way through a handful of questions before he dozed off. 

_He was in the corridor…then the circular room…the room with the ticking…the room with the shelves…farther and farther…almost there…but something was in the middle of the floor. He was walking around him in a circle…_

_ “Grab it for me,” he said._

_ “You’ll have to kill me,” replied Sirius._

_ “I will,” Voldemort said. “But first you’ll get it for me.”_

_ The dream continued with the two of them going back and forth. It didn’t take long for Voldemort to lose patience. Harry watched as the pale white hand raised, wand held tight. He heard his, no Voldemort’s mouth, utter the curse. He heard the screams._

Suddenly, Harry felt hands on him, and he realized he was screaming. Tofty ushered him out of the Great Hall with every eye on him. He assured the man he didn’t need any assistance, but after Tofty returned to the Great Hall he ran to the Hospital Wing anyway. To his utter despair, he learned McGonagall had been sent to St. Mungo’s.

As he rushed back downstairs, mind spinning, he saw the exam had ended and Hermione was rushing up towards him. Before she could speak he grabbed her by the arm. He saw Draco right by the doors looking at him. He motioned that Draco should follow them, and dragged Hermione to a nearby empty classroom.

“Harry what happened?” Hermione asked as Harry paced back and forth.

Before Harry could answer, Draco burst in. He quickly closed the door behind and ran towards Harry. “What happened?” He asked as he grabbed Harry’s head in his hands.

Harry closed his eyes and leaned into the touch. “He has Sirius,” he said.

“What?” they responded at the same time.

“Voldemort has Sirius,” Harry clarified. “In the Department of Mysteries.”

“How do you know?” Draco asked.

“You saw it?” Hermione asked.

“Yes,” he said. He turned to Draco. “We realized a while ago that there is some sort of connection between me and Voldemort. Sometimes, I can sense his moods or even see what he’s doing. That’s why I’ve been studying occlumency.”

“Yes, so you can stop this from happening,” Hermione interjected.

“I can’t always help it Hermione!” Harry exclaimed. “And it’s irrelevant. He’s got Sirius Hermione! We have to do something!”

“Harry you can’t be suggesting what I think you are?” Hermione said.

“We need to get to the Department of Mysteries,” Harry stated.

“You’ll never get in,” Draco countered.

“Harry, think about what you’re saying,” Hermione protested. “How do we even know he’s really there?”

“I saw it Hermione!” Harry yelled.

“But what if he wanted you to see it?” Hermione said. “What if it’s a trap?”

“What does that matter?” Harry shot back. “Am I just supposed to let him die!? He’s the only real family I have Hermione!”

“Well…”

“We should check,” Draco suggested. The other two looked at him. “Use Umbridge’s office. It’s the only fireplace not being monitored.”

“How will we get in?” Hermione said.

“I can get in,” Harry assured.

“Well, you figure that out,” Draco said. “Granger you be the lookout, and I’ll try to cause a distraction.”

As they headed out, they ran into Ginny and Luna. The two girls mentioned they had seen Neville on his way to the Hospital Wing.

“He had dropped all of his belongings on the floor,” Hermione explained. “That’s why he wasn’t with me. He must have gone look for you there.”

Hermione took Ginny and Luna and went to grab Neville. All four would serve as lookouts, and Draco would try to discreetly cause a distraction somewhere else in the castle. Everything appeared to go smoothly to plan. Harry made it in, and he got through to Sirius’ place. Kreacher confirmed his worst fears, and then the worst happened.

Harry felt someone grab him by the hair and yank him back. He inhaled ash as he gasped at the shock of it. Umbridge yanked him out of the fire and practically threw him onto a chair. Before he knew it, his friends who had been on lookout were dragged into the office by the Inquisitorial Squad. Draco shot him an apologetic glance when no one was looking.

Umbridge assumed he was communicating with Dumbledore, and given her previous questioning about Sirius, he wasn’t going to correct her. When she summoned Snape, Harry felt like someone had slapped him in the face. How could he forget Snape!? He could tell Hermione and Draco had had the same thought. He tried with all his might to project his thoughts to his potions professor. Since he couldn’t be sure it had worked, he gave Snape the best message he could, but to his despair, it didn’t appear as if he had understood.

When Hermione starting going off about some secret weapon, Harry played along. He wasn’t sure what her plan was, but it was better than the nothing he had. So he followed along. Soon, he realized she was leading them towards where Hagrid had been keeping Grawp. They found more than they had bargained for. But as soon as Umbridge was gone, they hightailed it back towards the castle. Halfway there, they ran into Ginny, Luna, and Neville.

“Well?” Ginny asked, after explaining how they escaped.

“Umbridge was carried off by centaurs,” Hermione said.

“And Sirius?”

“Gone,” Harry said. “Kreacher said he was gone and never coming back.”

“Harry,” Neville interjected. “Why did you use the fireplace instead of the mirror?”

“The what?” Ginny asked.

“Of course!” Hermione exclaimed. “Sirius gave Harry a two-way mirror for them to communicate!”

“I guess in all the excitement we forgot,” Harry said. “But it doesn’t matter. I’ve already got the confirmation. I have to go save Sirius.”

“I thought you were mad at him?” Neville asked.

“That doesn’t mean I’m going to let him die!” Harry yelled. “He’s my godfather! He’s my only real family. I can’t just leave him!”

“Yeah right sorry,” Neville said. “I don’t know why I brought it up.”

“So how are we getting to London?” Luna asked. They all looked at her. “That’s where Sirius is? At the Ministry?”

Harry shook his head. “You guys can’t come with me,” he said. “This is my responsibility.”

“Dumbledore’s Army was about doing something real,” Neville protested. “Or was that just a lie?”

“You can’t go alone Harry,” Hermione said. “I don’t think this is a good idea, but we aren’t letting you go by yourself.”

“So how do we get to London?” Ginny asked.

“We fly,” Luna answered. “Thestrals are particularly good with directions.” Everyone thought she was crazy, but without any better ideas they went to make their way back to the Forbidden Forest. Right as they were about to reach it, they heard someone yelling.

“Stop! Wait!” They turned and Harry recognized Draco running towards them.

“It’s Malfoy,” Ginny said, raising her wand.

“No,” Harry exclaimed. She looked at him confused. “He’s on our side. I’ll explain later.”

“Oh thank Merlin,” Draco exclaimed between breaths. “I was hoping I’d catch you.”

“How did you know we were here?” Hermione asked.

“Snape saw you and Harry heading into the forest with Umbridge,” he explained. “He saw you return, but you never entered the castle again, and I knew these guys had gone to look for you.”

“You went to Snape?” Harry asked.

“I wanted to know if he had understood your message,” Draco said. “He did Harry. He checked. Sirius is safe. He is where he’s supposed to be.”

“No,” Harry said, shaking his head. “Kreacher said—”

“Kreacher is loyal to the House of Black,” Draco said. “My mother and Aunt are Blacks. I wouldn’t be surprised if this is all part of Voldemort’s plan. Snape said Sirius was tending to Buckbeak when you called. Kreacher must have injured him as a distraction.”

“But…”

“The mirror Harry,” Neville said quietly. “Let’s just run upstairs and check the mirror. If Sirius doesn’t answer we’ll all follow you to the Ministry no questions asked.”

“That sounds like the best plan,” Hermione said. Harry wasn’t convinced, but the others dragged him to the castle. Draco waited downstairs as they all rushed to the Gryffindor dorm to find Harry’s mirror. He frantically fished it out of his trunk.

“Sirius?” he asked. “Sirius are you there?” They didn’t have to wait long.

“Harry!” Sirius yelled. Harry’s heart nearly stopped as his godfather’s face appeared in the mirror. “Oh thank Merlin! When Snape said you hadn’t returned from the forest I thought for sure you’d gone to the Ministry.”

Water dripped onto the mirror, and Harry realized he was crying. “I was going to,” he admitted. “I thought they had you. I thought…” He couldn’t even finish the sentence.

“It’s okay,” Sirius said. “It’s okay Harry I’m safe. Whatever you do, don’t go to the Ministry.”

Harry could hear voices on the other end of the mirror. “And you?” he asked. “Will you stay away?”

Sirius sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “I don’t know Harry,” Sirius said. “I won’t lie to you. If the Order decides to go and confront Voldemort, I’ll go with them. We haven’t made a decision yet.”

“But—”

“Look Harry, I’m glad you want to fight,” Sirius said. “And I’m glad to see how much you care,” he added with a small smile. “But I need to know you’re safe. You’re the one he wants, but the rest of us have done this before. This is our responsibility. Let the adults handle this.”

“I’m not helpless,” Harry protested.

“I’m not saying you are,” Sirius said. “But given everything you’ve been through, I think we can all agree you deserve a night off.”

“Sirius has a point Harry,” Hermione said. “If it is a trap, they’ll be waiting for you, not the Order. This is a good opportunity, but if you’re there, everyone will just be worried about you.”

Harry squeezed his eyes shut. “Promise me,” he begged. “Promise me you won’t do anything stupid.” He looked pleadingly at his godfather. “You’re my only real family. I can’t lose you Sirius. Please.”

Sirius stared hard at him. “I promise,” he said. “I’ll be more careful than I’ve ever been in my life.”

Harry nodded. “Okay,” he said. “I’ll stay here.”

Sirius sighed in relief. “Thank you Harry,” he said. “Go tell Snape. He should know that you’ve made it back to the castle.” Harry nodded. “I love you kid.”

“I love you too Sirius.” Harry watched his godfather disappear. He sat back and let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding.

“Come on,” Hermione said. “Let’s go tell Snape.”

They trudged downstairs, and found Snape and Draco huddled together in the hallway. Harry didn’t think he’d ever seen his potions professor so relieved.

“Merlin’s beard Potter are you trying to send me to an early grave?” he demanded.

Harry couldn’t help it, he smirked. “Sorry professor,” he said. “I didn’t think you’d understood.”

“Of course I understood,” Snape said. “You were practically screaming at me.” Harry blushed and ducked his head in embarrassment. “Where is Umbridge?” Hermione explained what had happened in the forest. Snape smirked. “Serves her right.” He looked around at them all. “Okay, I need to go get the remaining heads of houses so we can manage the school. I want you lot somewhere safe.”

“The Room of Requirement,” Draco suggested.

“Yes,” Snape agreed. “That works. Go there, and stay there until someone comes to get you.”

The others all nodded, and made their way upstairs.

“Well I don’t know about you guys,” Ginny said. “But I’m sure glad at least Neville had some common sense.”

They all laughed. “In my defense,” Harry said, “I didn’t get any sleep last night.”

“In your defense, you’re an idiot,” Draco said. Harry shoved him. “But you’re my idiot, and it’s cute.” He wrapped his arms around Harry and gave him a kiss. “Sometimes,” he added, quickly pulling away before Harry could shove him again.

They were laughing now, and Harry was grateful that Draco was capable of pulling him from the depths like that.

“Uh, so is anyone going to explain what’s going on here?” Ginny asked.

“Well, Harry obviously finally gained the courage to tell Draco how he felt about him,” Luna chimed in.

Ginny looked around the room in surprise. “Am I the only one who didn’t know about this!” she exclaimed.

“Sorry,” Harry said sheepishly. “It’s not exactly common knowledge.”

“Yeah, but how did Luna know before me?” Ginny asked.

“Luna knew before anyone actually,” Harry said.

“WHAT!?” yelled several voices. Harry found his two best friends AND his boyfriend all staring at him in surprise.

He shrugged his shoulders. “What? She’s easy to talk to, and not judgmental.”

“I’m very glad to see things worked out for you,” Luna sang.

“Thanks Luna,” Harry said, offering her a smile.

Draco shook his head in exasperation. “This is what I aligned myself with,” he muttered.

“It’s better than the alternative,” Neville said.

“Yeah, yeah I know,” Draco responded, plopping himself down on the couch. He motioned to Harry to come sit with him. Harry sat on him instead. “Oof.” Harry shot him a smirk.

“I’m sad,” he said. “I need to be consoled.” Draco rolled his eyes, but wrapped his arms around Harry’s waist and held him close nonetheless.

“Do you think…do you think your father is there?” Hermione asked quietly. Everyone turned to look at Draco.

He sighed, and stared at he and Harry’s laps, refusing to meet anyone’s eyes. “Probably,” he said quietly.

Harry used a finger to lift Draco’s chin and make the blond look at him. “You aren’t your father,” he assured. Draco gave him a small smile, and Harry kissed him to affirm his point. “Everything will be fine,” he said.

“So we trust the adults now?” Neville asked with a raised eyebrow.

“We don’t have a choice,” Harry said. With that, they all forcefully changed the subject, desperately trying to keep their minds off what could be happening at the Ministry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Almost there! Anybody else think Harry just deserves a day off?
> 
> Also, several people, throughout the story, have expressed anger or confusion about why Harry forgave Draco for everything he had done when the point of the story is that he shouldn’t forgive so easily. Those people are likely not still reading, but I’m going to explain it anyway. The answer is simple: Draco was there when Harry needed someone the most.  
I’m not saying it is right, but a lot of times, if someone is going through something really traumatic, they grow attached to the people who were there for them in that time. It’s not always a good thing. Sometimes those people end up being abusive or manipulative. Sometimes it just isn’t a productive relationship (regardless of what kind of relationship). That doesn’t change the fact that people have a tendency to cling on to those people. And sometimes, it works out.  
In the beginning of the story, Hermione, Ron, Sirius, and Remus all committed the same mistake. Yet, Harry forgives Sirius and Remus almost immediately because they were there for him after his nightmares and helped him when he needed it. Even though they should have known better over the summer, once he was in their care he couldn’t push them away the way he was with his friends. So he forgave them quicker.   
The same concept applies to both Snape and Draco. Both have done awful things to Harry in the past, but because they were there when he was most vulnerable (in case you forgot he was self-harming and about to commit suicide), he’s forgave/overlooked the past in favor of his new understanding of who these people are.  
If you don’t like that, oh well. Go read another story. I specifically said in my story description this was going to be a Drarry story because I wanted it to be.


	29. Time to go Home

Despite how nervous they all were, it was only a matter of time before they drifted off. It took several hours, but Harry had not gotten any sleep the night before, and all the fifth years were exhausted from their exams.

When dawn finally arrived, it found Neville draped across one of the couches the room had provided. Luna was curled up on an armchair. Ginny and Hermione were laying in a pile of blankets and pillows they had found in the room.

Meanwhile, Draco was half laying on a second sofa, half laying on an ottoman. Harry was also occupying two spaces. He was half laying on the couch, half on his boyfriend. He was draped over Draco’s lap and curled up against his chest. Harry was clutching one of Draco’s hands, and the other was on Harry’s head, the two having fallen asleep while the blond was playing with the brunette’s hair.

A few hours later, when Sirius and Remus walked in, they were almost sad to wake everyone. They all looked so peaceful, even Harry, who only a few months before could not go to sleep without waking up screaming. The solace was that the adults knew they only had good news to share.

“How should we wake them up?” Remus whispered.

Sirius looked around a room and spotted a whistle conveniently lying on a table. “I love this room,” he said with a smirk as he picked up the whistle.

“Seriousl—” Remus began, but was interrupted when his boyfriend did indeed proceed to blow the whistle. His shock quickly turned into laughter as the loud shrill startled the teenagers awake. Sirius nearly doubled over watching Neville fall off of his sofa. Hermione and Ginny had gotten tangled in the blankets and were struggling to get free. Meanwhile on the second couch, Harry had leapt upwards while Draco had surged forward, resulting in a collision of heads. Only Luna seem unperturbed.

“Seriously?” Draco asked, rubbing his head.

“I’m always Sirius,” Sirius replied with his tell-tale smirk. The teenagers all groaned, but Remus shoved his boyfriend affectionately. Suddenly, Harry realized exactly who he was talking to.

“Sirius!” he exclaimed. He practically threw himself at his godfather. He squeezed Sirius as tightly as he could, making sure he was really there. “You’re alive.”

“Yes,” Sirius said with a laugh. “I’m alive.”

“I’m alive too by the way,” Remus piped up. “You know, if anyone cares.” When Harry laughed and moved to hug Remus, he realized he was crying tears of joy.

“Did you go to the Ministry?” Hermione asked, having finally freed herself from the blankets. Everyone looked at the two adults expectantly. They shared a look, and Remus spoke up.

“Yes,” he said. “We did.” He paused and everyone stared on.

‘Well!?” they exclaimed.

“It was a trap,” Sirius said. “The place was crawling with Death Eaters.” They all exchanged worried looks. “The good news is that you weren’t there Harry.”

“And my dad?” Draco asked quietly.

Remus and Sirius shared a look. “Yes,” Remus answered. “It rather looked like he was in charge of the situation.”

“So what happened?” Harry asked.

“We fought,” Sirius said. “We won.”

“Is anyone hurt?” Ginny asked, likely thinking of her father.

“Some minor injuries,” Remus assured. “Nothing we can’t handle.”

“And the Death Eaters?” Harry asked, glancing at Draco.

Remus and Sirius exchanged a look and smiled. “Well, that’s the really good news,” Sirius replied with a grin. “You see, we fought long enough that the Ministry officials started arriving to work.”

“And when the Minister for Magic walks into the atrium in the middle of a duel between Dumbledore and Voldemort it’s hard to deny that Voldemort’s returned,” Remus added.

“Dumbledore fought Voldemort?” Neville asked.

“Destroyed the entire atrium in the process,” Sirius confirmed.

“And the Death Eaters?” Ginny asked eagerly.

“Bellatrix escaped, but the rest were rounded up,” Remus answered. Neville, Hermione, Ginny, and even Luna cheered, but Harry looked towards Draco. He looked upset, but not surprised.

“You okay?” Harry asked, grabbing the blonde’s shoulder.

Draco looked up at Harry and he had tears in eyes. “Not really,” he said. “I know the terrible things my father’s done, and would have done to you had you been there, but he’s still my dad. This will be hard on mum.” Draco looked up at the adults. “You couldn’t let my dad escape and capture Aunt Bella?” They couldn’t help it. Everyone laughed, even though they knew it wasn’t really funny.

“Hey it’s not like we let her get away on purpose,” Sirius said. “She tried to kill me. I’d return the favor if I could.”

“She tried to what!?” Harry exclaimed.

“Calm down,” Sirius said. “She missed.”

“Barely,” Remus clarified, not sounding happy about it.

Sirius shrugged. “Can’t change the past,” he said. “I didn’t die did I?” Remus huffed a yes out, but did so begrudgingly. Sirius looked towards Harry. “So what do you say kid? Breakfast?”

“Can the room provide food?” Hermione asked.

“No, but I was thinking the Great Hall,” Sirius replied with a smirk.

“But we can’t let people see you,” Ginny said. “Can we?” They all looked at Sirius expectantly.

“Well…” Sirius trailed off.

“Well what?” Harry asked.

“Well, the Ministry sort of saw that I was there this morning,” Sirius said.

“And!?” Harry exclaimed, growing impatient. “What did they do?”

“Well obviously they arrested me and put me back in Azkaban,” Sirius said sarcastically. “I’m standing here aren’t I?”

“So you’re free?” Neville asked. Harry looked at his godfather with wide eyes. It couldn’t be true.

“Oh for Merlin’s sake Sirius,” Remus said, shoving his boyfriend. “Yes, he is free. They tried to arrest him, but the rest of the Order pointed out that he was in fact fighting for us. Of course, now that Dumbledore has been proven right about Voldemort, they weren’t about to question him about Sirius. Kingsley was smart enough to suggest Sirius be given veritserium, and the rest is history. His record is being expunged as we speak.”

Harry’s mouth had fallen open in shock as Remus spoke, but Hermione was the first to say something.

“So, why didn’t they just give him veristersium the first time all those years ago?” she asked.

“Who cares!?” Harry yelled, finally regaining the ability to speak. “Sirius is free!” He once more surged forward and enveloped his godfather in a bone-crushing hug. It was returned ten-fold.

“You know this means I’m officially your guardian right?” Sirius whispered in his ear.

Harry looked up at him, once more with tears in his eyes. “Seriously?”

“Always.” Harry buried his head in his godfather’s chest. “Unfortunately, that means you have to live with me at…” Sirius choked on the words. He looked up and realized the room had several people who did not know about the Order. “…headquarters for now. But one day, when this is all over, we’ll get something much less oppressive.”

“I’d live with you in a cave if that’s what it took,” Harry said, finally pulling back. “We’ll just have to make do. Your parent’s place can use a few less walls and maybe some new paint.”

“I like the way you think kid,” Sirius said, ruffling Harry’s hair.

“As the third person taking up permanent residence in this house, I second that motion,” Remus chimed in.

Everyone started talking at once, excited by the news. As they went to leave the room, Harry looked towards Draco, remembering that this was not a happy occasion for the Slytherin. He started to make his way back to his boyfriend, but Draco shook his head.

“Go,” he said. “Celebrate. You deserve it. I’ll go brood with the rest of my house and we can talk later, yeah?”

Harry nodded. “Absolutely,” he said. He ran over and gave Draco a short kiss. “I’m here for you.” Draco gave him a grateful smile, and Harry turned and walked out into the open with his, decidedly, not-a-criminal godfather.

***

The days that followed were a blur. Dumbledore and Hagrid were reinstated. McGonagall was still at St. Mungo’s, but then again, so was Umbridge. Apparently, it was very…traumatic for her to be carried away by centaurs. All of Umbridge’s new rules were undone. Life at Hogwarts was returning to normal. Well, not exactly normal.

It felt euphoric to walk into the Great Hall with his exonerated godfather right as the student body were reading the news in the _Daily Prophet_. Those who had doubted him were apologizing. Those who had always believed were celebrating the good news. And the animosity between Slytherin and the other three houses intensified.

To Draco’s credit, he played his part very well. Even those who knew that he was secretly dating Harry questioned his loyalties. Everyone but Harry that is. The down side was that the scrutiny was so high, it was too dangerous to meet. Harry really wanted to see how Draco was doing, but it wasn’t safe to sneak off until the night before they left for home. Harry eagerly made his way to the Room of Requirement.

He entered the room to find his boyfriend huddled on the sofa nursing a steaming mug. There was a plate of biscuits on the coffee table in front of him. Harry cocked an eyebrow.

“Tea and biscuits soothe me,” Draco said. “Sue me.” Harry laughed and sat down to snuggle next to his boyfriend. There was a second steaming mug on the table.

“For me?” Harry asked.

“No for Peeves,” Draco said with an eye roll. Harry gave the blond a playful shove.

“Thanks,” he said. He looked at the Slytherin. “How are you?”

Draco sighed. “I don’t know,” he admitted quietly. “My mum says she’s doing okay, but it’s hard to tell the truth in a letter.” He leaned his head back against the sofa. “I’m scared to go home.” He turned his head to look at Harry. “Aunt Bella will be there, and she’ll only make things worse. It isn’t socially acceptable to show her emotions in public, especially considering how my father will have failed in their eyes.”

“That’s horrible,” Harry said. “I’m sorry Draco.”

Draco sighed again. “I’ll get the full force of it most likely,” he said. “She’ll try to put on a show for me too, but even the strongest people can only hold the façade for so long.”

Harry repositioned himself so he could snake his arm around Draco’s back and hold him. “I can’t say I’m sorry that your dad is in Azkaban, but I am sorry that you and your mother have to deal with it,” Harry told him. They sat in silence for some time, sipping their tea and munching on the biscuits. Harry rubbed circles on Draco’s shoulder.

“I’ll need to be a spy now,” Draco said, breaking the silence.

Harry took a deep breath. “Are you ready?” he asked.

“Honestly?” Draco asked. “I’m not sure. Snape says my mind should be strong enough, but that the only way to tell will be to put in in practice. That’s not exactly reassuring, is it?”

“I’m sorry I put you in this position,” Harry replied.

“You didn’t force me,” Draco insisted. “I wanted this. I don’t regret it.”

“Still,” Harry said. “I’m sorry. But for what it’s worth, I have faith in you.”

Draco gave Harry a small smile. “Thank you,” he said gratefully. He grabbed Harry’s hand. “I know how stupid it sounds, but I wish you would be there.”

Harry jumped up. “Hey, maybe I can,” he said excitedly. He dug through his bag for the item he was looking for. He pulled out a small mirror, familiar to them both.

“That’s the mirror Sirius gave you,” Draco said.

“Yep,” Harry said. “It’s a two-way mirror. Sirius has the other. We’ve been using it to communicate all year.” He looked up at Draco. “I want you to take this one.” He handed it to his boyfriend, who took it and fingered it gently. “When I get home, I’ll get the one from Sirius.”

“Are you sure?” Draco asked.

“Positive,” Harry answered. “I’ll be living with Sirius all summer. It’s you I’ll want to communicate with.”

“How does it work?” Draco asked.

“You just call into it,” Harry said. “Say my name.” He thought about it for a moment. “We had a rule this year that only I would call for Sirius because he could never know when it was safe to speak with me. Let’s make the same rule. Only you can call me. That way I won’t accidently get you in trouble, or you know killed.”

Draco laughed. “How considerate of you,” he replied.

“I try,” Harry responded. Draco looked down at the mirror. Harry watched his boyfriend’s expression change. He didn’t like the forlorn look on the blonde’s face. So, he took it between his hands and made Draco look at him. He framed the blonde’s face with his hands and stared into his grey eyes. The Black family eyes, Harry realized suddenly. He took a deep breath. “We can make it.”

Draco looked down. “Can we?” he whispered.

“Look at me,” Harry quietly ordered. Draco looked back up. “We can. No matter what they throw at us. No matter what happens. We can make it. I know we can.”

“How?”

“Because…because I love you.”

Draco’s eyes widened, and, to Harry’s relief, an expression of pure joy spread across his face.

“I…I love you too,” he whispered.

Harry smiled, and kissed his boyfriend.

***

The next day, Harry and his friends made their way towards the train station.

“I’m sure we’ll see each other at some point this summer,” Harry said.

“I’d like to spend some time with my parents,” Hermione said. “But just write to me. I’d be happy to come to Headquarters later in the summer.”

“Same,” said Ginny.

“We live by the Weasley’s, if you’re in the area,” Luna added and Harry nodded at her.

“I’d like to spend some alone time with Sirius and Remus,” Harry admitted. “This is the first time we’ll get to be a real family. But I’m sure I’ll get bored eventually.”

“I guess I’ll see you guys when next term starts,” Neville said dejectedly.

“No way!” Harry exclaimed. “You’re invited too Neville!”

“Really?”

“Of course!” Harry assured. He saw Neville perk up, and then he turned to make his way into the compartment. As he did, he caught a glimpse of blond hair. He made eye contact with his boyfriend one last time, and they shared a quick smile before they both darted into their respective compartments.

Harry wasn’t sure what next year would hold. He thought back to how broken he had been last summer. He looked around at his friends and thought about the ways his life had changed over the year, mostly for the better. He wasn’t sure what next year would be like, but he was sure if he could survive this year, he could survive anything.


	30. Goodbye

Wow! It’s actually over! I can’t tell you guys what an adventure this has been! Thank you so much to everyone who read, commented, left kudos, etc! You are valued and appreciated!

For anyone who is hoping the story gets continued: it won’t be :( This is for several reasons. The first, and primary reason, is that I did this because of a class. I teach at the college level, and created a class about fanfiction. Their final project is that they have to write and publish online their own fanfic. I don’t ask students to do something I would never do/haven’t done. So, I went ahead and wrote a fanfic. I’ve been an avid reader for a while, and I’ve always created them in my head. But the only reason I actually wrote down this one is to be able to tell my students I did this too.

When I started this over the summer it was amazing! It was cathartic and freeing and fun! But then school started back up in August. These past few months have been really tough. Trying to make sure I keep up with the chapters on top of grading and lesson planning and all my other work has been killing me. I am a writer of all different types of things. Along with fanfiction, I have regular fiction and nonfiction. But it’s been a real struggle to write my own original works. I am so creatively tired after finishing the fanfic, that I don’t have energy for anything else. I really want to get back to work on some of those. Now, my school has transitioned online because of the coronavirius, which is adding extra work, so I’m even more drained than usual.

The second reason I won’t be continuing, is because redoing the sixth year would be even more stressful! With the fifth year, I could keep a lot of the major plot points the same—only changing the ways the characters got there and reacted to it. That wouldn’t work for sixth year because of the changes I’ve made to the fifth!

Sirius being alive changes everything! Harry will have a different attitude and outlook, which will be a good thing, but more complicated to write. Also, because the dynamics with key characters are different, basically ever major thing would have to be redone. How do Harry and Dumbledore come to terms so Dumbledore can show Harry everything he has too? Given Harry’s new relationship with Snape, it is unlikely that he wouldn’t find out early on that Snape is the Half-Blood Prince. That will change everything about that particular plot line. Also, given that Draco is Harry’s boyfriend, he won’t spend the entire year stalking and trying to figure out what Draco is up too. He’ll know, and though their relationship will have roadblocks, it will also change how Draco approaches the task.

Plus, I also think that now with Umbridge gone and Harry’s newfound love for teaching, he would like keep some form of the D.A. alive. Instead of secret meetings, have some sort of tutoring sessions.

All of these ideas really excite me to think about, but the idea of writing them down is terrifying and stressful. I really need to take the rest of the semester to focus on teaching, and then I can focus my summer on creative projects that have been put to the wayside so I can finish this. I hope these little tidbits of information about how I _would_ continue the story help ease the pain.

I’m not saying I’ll never come back and finish it. But I mostly likely never will. So thank you to everyone who stayed along for the ride!


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